The 53rd Hunger Games
by M.L.Caro
Summary: Pearlynn was an average girl in District 4. She learned to fish, tie knots, and swim. She had a best friend and loved her Nana. Why was she reaped? Random Hunger Games. Not significant to the Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins. Rated T because it is the Hunger Games.
1. Hauling to Fight Hunger

**Author's Note: Just wanted to say, hope you enjoy this story!**

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The hunger was overwhelming. Usually, I would shrug it off, knowing that my stomache would never be filled but now, I knew I nedded to eat. It was the kind of hunger that felt identical to pain. The kind of pain you would receive, if you suddenly had a charlie horse.

For the past three days, I had eaten nothing but a small serving of seaweed stew. The seaweed had turned out to be more slimy than usual, and rotten. Almost everyone who had eaten the soup had gotten a bit sick.

Now at the shore, where the usual work was, I was so very tempted to reach out, and eat a shellfish that lay in my neatly woven net of rope. Surely I would be punished if I was caught, which would most likely be the case_ but I was willing to take the risk. Ever so slowly, I untied the knot that kept the shellfish tied up. I reached my hand into the net and grasped a shell, filled with the salty flesh.

To my great joy, everyone else by the shore and on the dock were minding their own business. They were busy trying to haul in fish to feed their own bellies as well as their families.

I brought the shell closer to rip out the meat, and peel it, but felt a sudden pang in my heart. I remembered how if I ate now, how guilty I would feel later when my family was starving. The looks of betrayal that they would surely direct towards me, once they realized that I wasn't starving amongst them. The unsaid questions of why I hadn't attempted to help them eat too.

Reluctantly, I lowered the fish down. But, I still, slipped it into my pocket of my pants for later, if it really come to guilt or starvation. When the time came for that, I just might choose guilt.

The day had been long, and hot. The sun's rays beat down relentlessly. Sweat covered me from head to toe as I worked. I felt nasty. I resolved, that when Paul and I went swimming in the pond later today, or tomorrow morning, I would bring soap to clean myself. I might even stay after so that I can be thoroughly scrubbed down.

Knotting up the net, tossing it into the shallow pools to the reel in the oysters and shellfish, and finally having them back on the beach. This was the only thing I did all afternoon.

I never really worked before. In truth, I was usually absorbed in school but for the past few days, had skipped my lessons to add the wages to the family's earnings_ not that it actually changed much.

By the end of the afternoon, I had hauled about three buckets full of meaty oysters and shellfish. This wasn't much, considering the amount of time that I took slaving, to reel in my catch, but it was understandable, seeing how small the nets were. (Only about a yard or two in length.)

I hurried to the town square, fearing that the shops would close before I was able to sell the fish. I always kept half a bucket of the food to help feed the family, but that never lasted long. I would have just brought all three of the buckets back home, but it was actually illegal to even bring back any. The Capitol had reffered to it as poaching.

By the time I had sold the fish, I had already spent the money on the necessities. Bandages, greens, thyme, rosemary, and pepper. Half-way home, I could smell bread rising in a stone oven. Could smell the dill, and cinnamon. Even the nuts and fruits that graced the more expensive breads. The bakery.

The bread was special for everyone of the districts. In District 4, the bread was tinted green with seaweed, but it was still heavenly. The bakery on the other hand, was almost identical to every other bakery there was. A small brick building with chimneys to let the steam and smoke from the ovens air out. Sometimes, I even thought that the chimneys were to torture the hungry, on the Capitol's demands. To make them wish that they could have something, that they knew they couldn't. To taunt them.

With the intention of feeding my family, before I fed herself, I took flight on the streets towards the outer ring of houses. The poorest of the poor lived here, and I was poor. In other districts, I had heard that they refer to this place as the _Seam_. Instead, as a kind of pun in our district, we called it the _Bottom Feeders_. Maybe it was because it was so lame it was funny, but whatever the reason, I always grinned when I thought of the name.

My house was small and **old. **The floorboards were rickety, and the hinges were rusty. Whenever a foot was set down forcefully, you could hear the hinges from underneath the foundation creak, and threaten to fall over. Either way, it was actually better than some of the other Bottom Feeder Houses. The one room house was much too small for the family of six that lived there.

The door swung open, creaking all the while. The inside of the house was saddening. The sink and oven, as well as the cabinets, lay in the corner. A small table sat in the middle of the room. By the hearth, were the make-shift beds; mainly mattresses with torn and worn down sheets. And in the other corner, sat Nana's rocker and basket full of yarn. The fishing gear was piled carelessly beside my parent's bed. The clothes were all stored in the tiny doored-closet built into the wall. Despite these things being placed here specifically, it was cluttered.

I set down the bucket on the table, causing my parents, Nana, and younger brothers, Sherman & Herman (twins) to look up from the show of seeing Nana crochet. This really was the most entertaining thing we had to do, other than our work.

"I brought home some food," I say. The others look up hungrily. I know they want to eat, and are grateful for the food, but are hesitant. Probably because of that rancid seaweed. They don't want to end up throwing up food, again.

Since no one else is moving, I set the table. I start peeling the shellfish, and placing the meats in a bowl. I'll stew them, or grill them with the rosemary I bought at the market. I can't decide. After what seems like an eternity, delicate fingers start to help me peel the fish. Nana, of course. My parents finally start moving; placing the things I bought in the cupboards. The twins shift to the floor in positions so that they lie on their stomaches to complete their homework.

As we work, Nana is silent. For weeks now, she has been worrying about the next Hunger Games. It is so close now. They will call the names in 3 days, and she is anxious. We all know that we have only slight chances in being reaped, but the anxiety sets in on the day of the reaping. Before that day, we try to look beyond those horrific events, in order to survive from day to day. But now, with Nana's silence, anxiety grows in me.

My hands are raw from the salt of the sea, but I continue peeling until I have separated all the meat. Nana finally speaks, as I decide on grilling the shellfish, and stewing the oysters later.

"Pearlynn, you have worked hard," she says, drawing out my name carefully.

I love my name, Pearlynn, but everyone else calls me Pearl. That's one of the reasons I love my grandma, Paul, and my teacher, Mr. Palmer. Pearl was not my name. If I wanted to be called 'Pearl', I would be named Pearl, not Pearlynn. Nobody but these three people understands this. Not even my parents.

"I appreciate that and you. I just wish that you would spend time on yourself and be happy too." My Nana never did, and never will understand that, I already did spend enough time on myself. If I had more time, I wouldn't know what to spend it on. Go fishing with Paul more? Play on the beach? Study more? I don't think that she realizes, that I already do all of this. I probably spend more time with Paul than anybody else, even her… Was the amount of time I spent with hime even appropriate? I have tried explaining this to her every time she started this conversation, but now, I say nothing. "You know that life is short, so you should make the best of it. Don't just worry about food. We'll manage, we always do."

"Yes Nana," I reply in my most polite voice. I love my grandma, and we are close, so I try my best not to disrespect her. I am closer to her than anybody, except maybe Paul. I smile reassuringly. If she thinks that I will take her advice, then that's that. I won't have to fight her for a while.

The shellfish were becoming a golden-light brown. Spiced with the herbs, they were mouth watering. The smell of them even made the saliva in my mouth run wild. The greens were thrown into a kind of cold salad. This meal was hearty, and filling. We rationed it into certain sized servings though, because it would only last the family about 2 days before it ran out.

Nana had just dried the last dish when the banging on the door made everyone jump. Through the screen, I could see Paul's face full of happiness, looking for me. After only a few seconds, he takes sight of me and gestures with his hand for me to come with him. I look over to my parents who nod. Then Nana nods, and tells me to go. They try to give me some freedom, since I am 15, and the average age that most people die, is between 34-54. Right before I leave with my jacket halfway on, Nana whispers in my ear.

" Don't get home to late, Pearlynn." For some reason this makes me blush. Probably the fact that, I'm going out to hang out with Paul so late. The fact that we've known each other since we were 5,and we met on the first day of school. The fact that I have feelings for him, kinda. When it comes to stuff like this, I get lost so easily. It may even be that fact that Paul told me in the second grade that I was pretty, and that he liked me. I wonder if he even remembers that day, so many years ago.

Nana hands me a bar of soap the size of my thumb. She must know that I want to wash up after today's work. I kiss her cheek, and rush out the door. The wind feels good, compared to my skin still hot from cooking. I jog to meet Paul still waiting at the end of the row of houses. He grabs my hand, and we start running.


	2. Our Pond

"Paul!" I shreak. He's dangling me over his shoulder, and heading towards the pool of fresh water. He's panting, and I know it's from our nice little run over here, not my weight. (Even if we hadn't been running, he wouldn't be panting, I'm light from almost starving every week or so.)

Both of our faces are flushed, and we're winded. We ran all the way from my house in the Bottom Feeders to the pond on the the other side of the harbor.

The pond is somewhat hidden from onlookers. You would have to know it was here to reach it, because it is covered by a thin veil of trees. Once the treeline stops, the sandy beach sets in. You only have about 15 feet of beachland, when you hit water. The pond is small, but deep. The bottom of the pool, has got to be at least 10ft. deep in the middle of the pond, the deepest section.

Paul's father has showed it to us one day, when we were seven. Ever since, we had made the pool ours. We went swimming every day and night during the summer. We swam whenever the weather allowed it.

I feel myself fall and hit the water. The droplets that splashed up, fall I a flurry above my head. I am conscious to another splash, somewhere close to my left. Paul has joined me.

I barely have time to re-surface, when a hand grabs my leg, pulling me back in. I suck in a bunch of air, and let the hand drag me down. Not for once, do I struggle Paul, as he gets me to dive to the bottom of the pond. The weeds under the pond, are so different from the seaweed in the saltwater sea. The fish are less colorful, and the water is freshening. I loved the pool more than the ocean.

Paul and I swim for what seems like a lifetime. We turn somersaults, and backflips, things we probably couldn't do on land. We finally swim into the shallows, and try to catch our breaths. We are trapped in silence for a few minutes, while we relax our muscles. Finally Paul starts talking.

"Pearlynn, do you think we have the slightest chance of being reaped? I mean both you and I, have 29 slips with our names in the bowl (we'll both be sixteen, with tessarae for 6 people). I know that it's out of thousands, but 29 slips isn't good," he says, tracing the number 29 into the sand with his index finger.

I shrug, but I know it does nothing to cover up the fear in my eyes. "It's not good, but it could be worse. I mean we'll be fine," I say. My voice cracks slightly at the end, making it unconvincing.

"What if we're not?" he whispers. I don't respond. I can't imagine the horrors. The agony. The pain in the arena. I make an attempt to change the subject.

"My birthday is coming up," I say. "It's tomorrow." He chuckles.

"How old are you going to be? Nine?" he says trying to intimidate me.

"Definitely not," I say in a childish voice. "I'm going to be sixteen." Paul smiles. His birthday was back in November. He had just turned 16. Now it would be my turn.

"And how are we planning to celebrate?" he asks. I shrug again.

"Swimming I guess." I know that this was our plan anyway. He grins.

"Ok, so what would you like as a present?" he asks. I shrug for the millionth time.

"I dunno. What do you think?" I ask him. He grins again. Then he chuckles to himself, like he knows something I don't.

"I was thinking…" he starts. Now I want to know. He always does this, gets me worked up for something. I give him a pleading look with my eyes, so that he will tell me.

"I was thinking, that…" he begins again. Before I can tell him to go on, he leans forward. Our lips touch, and my eyes are wide open. In a matter of seconds I close them, and enjoy this 'present'.

I never knew that this would be what it feels like. My first kiss, and I am lost. Thankfully, Paul is shaking too, so he won't hold anything against me. The kiss is soft, and bitterly sweet, and I love every second of it. For once, I see a light in the dark of the confusing thing we call romance. I'm that much closer to figuring everything out.

As the kiss coninues, I am taken back to a different place, at a different time. I no longer feel the coldness of the water, but the heat of the fire. I am sitting on my bed, next to the hearth in our old house. Paul is next to me, having problems on the same question as I am on our homework. I look up, and see him staring at me, with the big sea-green eyes that match mine. His light brown hair is messy, and glistening.

"What?" I ask him, thinking that something is wrong with me. "Is there something wrong?" He shakes his head.

"No, your just really pretty," he replies. I can feel the heat on my face. "You know what?" he asks, but continues before I reply. "I like you."

When I open my eyes again, Paul's eyes are opened too. I wonder if he was thinking of that moment too. We pull apart, and both of us blush.

"How was that?," he asks. "Is that a good present?" I nod, embarrassed. But what can you do? Deny your heart? He smiles, and so do I. "Come on," he says, bringing me back into the depths.

Paul tells me that he wants to walk me home, so I make him wait behind the trees, while I bathe. I scrub down, my whole body, making sure I'm clean. I don't think I can stand being sweaty, and dirty one more second.

After I'm done, I tell Paul to go to the entrance of the trees. He agrees so I may get dressed. When I'm finished, I fishtail braid my hair, and call him back. He meets me at the end of the sand. Then he wastes no time in grabbing my hand.

We start walking home. The lights are dim, and I don't know how late it is. We didn't leave that late, so we must have been swimming for hours. Nana will probably be wondering where I am. My parents will wonder, but will be asleep. The twins are probably out already. After I think of them, I think about Paul's family. Will they be worrying about their son?

Regardless, we walk slowly. We don't talk, but I think we already know what the other is thinking. We are best friends, but we are also more than that. So all those days, that I would hang out with him, instead of the other girls at school wasn't just because we're friends. It was because I cared about him more than I cared about anyone else.

When we finally reach my street, he stops me. He plays with the ends of my dark hair, and whispers one of the most important questions ever to me, "What now?" He sees how I have a smile plastered on my face, and he grins too.

"Well," I answer. "You just make sure, that my present tomorrow is awesome, and we'll take it from there." He laughs, causing me to join in.

"Got it." He starts walking again, but I stop him. He raises his eyebrows.

"Just promise, we'll stay best friends," I say. I really can't bear the thought of losing him.

"Forever."

"Forever," I agree. We continue walking all the way to my house. When we finally reach it, he turns me around and gives me a huge hug. Then he kisses my forehead.

"You know what?" he says repeating his line. "I like you." I laugh softly, and so does he, remembering the moment.

I walk to my house, and am about go in, but I turn around and wave one last time. He returns it, and runs off.

When I get inside Nana is awake. She smiles, and goes back to crocheting ; that old lady thinks that she'll get away with it. I hop into bed, and fall asleep once my head hits the pillow. My dreams are jumbled, but I am aware, that in them, I am still in the second grade.


	3. Happy Birthday, To: Me

I wake up early the next morning. The dawn's fingers are prodding the window panes, willing them to open. I want to get up, and open them, but my mattress and sheets are so warm, that I can't make myself crawl out.

I am about to close my eyes, when I here a tapping. I sit up, trying to locate the source. My eyes fall back on to the window. The sunlight that wanted to come in, is now illuminating a figure. I squint a little more, since the light is still dim in the morning. Through the gray light, I can see a head full of light brown hair, as well as eyes as green as the sea.

Silently, I slip out of bed. I climb into the closet, and change into fresh clothes in there. I definitely don't want anyone seeing me naked, if Paul were to peak in, or if one of the twins were to rouse. I climb out, and grab a piece of paper. I scribble, 'With Paul' on it, and lay it on the table.

I blow a kiss over to my Nana, clutching her yarn. Nana fell asleep in her rocking chair, again, eventhough it's bad for her back. She looks so peaceful, that her wrinkles seem to disappear. She looks... younger.

I grab my sweater, and open the door slowly, and as quietly as I can. I slip out, and stumble into Paul. He grins, and immediately grasps my hand. Even before the kiss, he was so willing to do this. He held my hand all the time. Now I wonder if it was friendly, or more…

Like the day before, we run. The morning is almost silent, except for the distant sounds of the ocean, and the fishers loading their boats. We reach the pond breathless, but happy none the less.

"Ready to swim?" I ask Paul, who is sitting by the water, but still on the dry sand. Instead of his usual nod, he shakes his head. Puzzled, I walk over to him, and sit down. "Why not?"

"Well, I need to give you your present," he answers, but makes no sudden movements. I sit their numbly, not knowing what to do next. Kiss him? Paul reaches into his pocket, and pulls out something. I can't see what it is, since his fist covers the object, but I can tell that it's small.

"What is it?" I ask him. I am genuinely curious; I want to know what it is, if it's not a kiss.

"Guess."

"Um… A rock? A piece of seaweed? A fish?" I guess. Paul laughs, and looks at me incredulously.

"You're a terrible guesser. A fish, really?" he says all the while laughing with tears in his eyes.

"What?" I say. "I'm hungry." To support my claim, my tummy rumbles with hunger. Now I laugh. Paul brings his hand closer to me. I try to pry it open with my hands, but to no evail. He is one of the strongest people I know, if not the strongest.

"Will you open it please?" I say in a bit of a whiny voice. Paul chuckles and releases his grip. His fingers unfold, and I am staring at the one object that I am named after. I gasp slightly, but am suddenly smiling.

The pearl is so beautiful. It is only about a centimeter in length and width, but I love it. Instead of the iridescent surface being white, it is tinted green. A mint green. A sea green. I let it roll around in my hand for a minute, and finally look up. Paul is watching me, my expression.

Impulsive with happiness, I lean up and kiss him. He takes the surprise well, and catches on quickly. We stay like this for a few minutes, then let go for air. I place the Pearl in my pocket.

"Thank you. For everything," I say. "That present was awesome." Paul nods, and picks me up. He dangles me over the water and drops me.

"Happy Birthday," I hear him say as I go under the surface. As I hear the splash near me, signaling he has joined me, I think, 'Happy Birthday to me."

My birthday is great. After swimming we go home, and enjoy ourselves. For dinner, we eat the leftovers from the day before. It's great the second day, but for some reason, I'm not as hungry as I was yesterday. I share my serving with Paul, who seems so happy that he's celebrating my birthday with me that he barely eats a few bites.

We could never afford the delicate cakes in the bakery, so instead we buy a small loaf of bread. It must have cost a fortune. My father most likely spent extra hours at work. My mother probably sold some old baby clothes. My Nana might have sold one of her crocheted scarves. Either way, the bread is here, and fresh. Everyone takes slices of the loaf filled with sweet berries, and walnuts. Even Paul's family arrives for the party.

While we eat our bread, Paul keeps his hand wrapped around mine under the table. His youngest, out of 3 sisters, ducks under the table, and tries to figure out why our hands are locked together. Her wide blue eyes can't seem to comprehend why we do this, and why it is a secret. When she opens her mouth to say something about it, Paul looks down, brings a finger to his lips, and says 'shhh'. Her eyes bulge out of her head making her look ridiculous. I can't help but laugh a little.

The sun finally begins to set, sending waves of red, pink, orange and a glorious gold over the sky full of clouds. My family, as well as Paul's stand on the tiny porch to watch. I am mesmerized with the beauty of the day. I feel like all of this is a dream, and I don't want to wake up. But when Paul squeezes my hand, I know that it is real.

With no table to block our hand holding, Nana takes notice. I can see her smile and nudge Paul's mother's shoulder. She too glances over and smiles. I blush and unmistakeable pink, and half to sigh. Paul glances over at me, his mother, Nana, and everyone else; during this time, his cheeks have become a fine shade of red.

Stars fill the sky, as the sun disappears from sight. Everyone else is headed inside, but Paul and I stay in the night air. I sense that Nana used telepathy to make everyone go inside, so that Paul and I can be alone; that old lady…

"So, how did you like your birthday?" Paul asks. "Did it live up to your standards?"

"It was better than I thought it could be," I say. And I truly mean it. I loved today. The kisses, the weather, the family, the friends, Paul. "I loved it."

"Good. I'm glad it made you happy, and I was able to see you smile," He replies. I smile to him again. "Like that. Smile like that."

"I like your smile too," I say. He gives me a grimace instead of the winning grin that drives me crazy. I cock my head to the side, and raise my eyebrows. Finally he smiles genuinely. "Exactly like that."

He squeezes my hand again. And pulls me closer to him. In the distance I can hear music. Paul rocks me, and twirls me slowly. On the second twirl, I stumble, and he catches me. Just like on T.V., he leans in and whispers, "Happy Birthday Pearlynn." Then he kisses me for the third time. It sends shivers down my spine, and I know that I have, and always will love Paul.

After Paul and his family leaves, I head straight to bed. The twins are snoring happily, and my parents are settling down. As I drift off to my dreamland, Nana whispers lovingly to me, "Happy birthday Pearlynn. I love you."

I just have enough energy to say one last thing, "Love you too…"


	4. Reflecting

**I just wanted to say, thanks for all your support on the story. Sorry if this chapter sucks :(**

**Anyway, please keep reading and reviewing!**

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When I wake the next morning, the whole house is cold. I unconsciously shiver, and see that no one else is awake. I look to the hearth, and see that the warm coals are now dead. No heat generating from them at all.

I take a minute to look around. The twins are in their bed, and so are my parents. The thing I feel peculiar about, is that Nana is gone. Not in the tiny mattress bed or in the rocking chair. There are no signs of her whereabouts.

I quickly kneel before the hearth, and attempt to restart the fire. It is a sort of successful attempt, if burning yourself in the process isn't counted as a demerit on the process. My hand screams, from the burning it took from a flame that flared up to fast for my liking. I bite down on my lip, to keep from waking up my family. I'll have to run cold water on it.

The extra clothes I pack are stuffed into a burlap sack, with a tiny bar of soap, smaller than my index finger's palm. I sling it over my shoulder and pull on my sweater, then run out in the morning light. I intend to go to the pool quickly, bathe, cool down my hand, and then find Nana. Who knows, she might even be there.

The trip doesn't take too long, with only me, so I reach it quickly. I don't hesitate to plunge my red hand into the water, feeling instant relief. I just dread the time when I will have to pull it out. We don't have the expensive medicine to treat it, so I will have to run around with a burning hand all day long.

After about half an hour, of bathing, I get dressed, and pull my hair back. The easiest thing to do with it now is to fishtail braid it, even though I love it when it flows loosely down my shoulders. I leave it down though, because the contact with hair on the burn is terrible. By the shore, weeds in the water sway. I grab some, and wrap them around my hand to keep it cool. Then I pull a bandage I bought the other day out of my back and wrap it around the weeds.

I reach the entrance of the trees, and slyly sneak out of the area. I don't want a lone fisher straying too far to find the shallows filled with oysters and snails to see me, and discover our pond. I walk down the harbor, and find nothing but sailors. Even the beach is only filled with fishermen. Desperate, I check the town square, and the market. Nothing.

I try and rack my brain for a spot that Nana might escape to, but none come to mind. In exasperation, I walk slowly back to my house in the Bottom Feeders. As I reach the street, I can hear someone singing a hymn. A house is illuminated with candles, and a white peacekeeper uniform emerges. On a makeshift gurney, lays a small child. Smaller than the twins. Only about four at the most. He probably died of hunger.

A memory triggers in my head. I run through the Bottom Feeder streets to my grandmother's old house. The dust is thick, but none the less the light streams in. I peak inside and find my grandmother. I decide to try and comfort her, so I open the screen door as quietly as I can and come inside. I put my hand on top of her's at the table, and wrap my other arm around her in a half-hug fashion. She rubs the green hankerchief in her hand slowly, as if she feels something other than the cloth.

Glancing at her face, I can see silent tears streaming down. When my grandmother wasn't happy, which was rare, she would pull out my grandfather's hankerchief and cry into it. I hand't seen her do this in forever so my heart ached to see the old lady so depressed.

After a long while she talks in a quivering voice. "I miss him terribly you know? You have your parents and your brothers, but all I had was him and he's been gone for how many years now? Five?" I nod remembering one day when I was 11, and we were ushered over to this house for his small funeral before the Peacekeepers came to retrieve the body. Laying in their bed, he looked peaceful, like he was sleeping. My grandfather.

"Sometimes, I miss him so much… It's just…" she cries. She's silent for a moment, then gains back her voice. "It's just last night Pearlynn, I saw him. When you were with Paul, oh I saw us. I saw him again,in you, and I was so happy. It made me, so very happy," she says. She wears a quavering smile, and fresh tears of joy spring to her eyes. I realize that I too am smiling and have tears threatening to spill over, so I let them. "Then this morning, I wanted to see him again terribly, so I came here. And I can feel him, right now." She sighs in content and closes her eyes. She rubs the cloth again, like she's caressing his withered hand.

We stay at the house for a few moments then make our way home. I know that we can't stay at the old house forever, so it's better to leave now than later. We arrive, and everyone else is up. The oysters are stewing for later in the fire. For breakfast, they are salvaging the rest of the bread from last night. We eat the rest, which isn't a lot, and everyone heads off to their jobs.

Nana stays home, my mother tries to clean houses, or sells old things, and my father goes to the docks. I have to lead my brothers to school, then attend, since I have skipped a few days.

Mr. Palmer, my teacher isn't here today, so I wonder where he is. When the substitute teacher asks where I was, I just say "I was dying of starvation." She doesn't say anything else. Paul and I pass notes during the lessons that always seem to come back to fish, and the sea no matter what it is. We've heard the lectures about the same topic before, so we just ignore it, if we've learned it. We do listen in for new lessons that rarely come about though.

At the end of the school day, the teacher demands attention. We all look up to the petite woman and listen to what she has to say.

"As you all know, the reaping is tomorrow. I hope that none of you are picked, and I wish you all luck. If you are entered into the arena, my thoughts and prayers go to you. You are dimissed," she says. Fast, quick, easy, to the point. I wonder if she's related to Mr. Palmer.

Paul and I head over to the pick up area. I drag the twins, while Paul brings his sisters home. We walk to his house, since it's closer, (only a few blocks away from mine in the Bottom Feeders) and drop off his sisters. Then he helps me haul Sherman and Herman home. We reach my house and he comes in briefly. Before he leaves, he whispers in my ear, "Lake tomorrow". I nod in agreement.

The night is full of a melancholy mood. No one wants to do anything but sit, staring at the fire. I watch the small flames flicker brightly and imagine them as dancers. They dance in a circle, unorderly, but beautiful. I find myself wanting to touch them, but I keep my hand at my side remembering this morning's accident.

Was it really this morning? With all that's happening even a little thing like burning my hand seems so far away. To think this morning it was freezing, and now it's toasty warm.

My mind is racing so I lie back. I don't want to fall asleep. Don't want to watch the reapings tomorrow in the square. Don't want to stop watching the flames… My mind races faster and I feel sick. Maybe it would be best to fall asleep, right now, while I still can hear the chatter of my relatives. Where I know that life will go on no matter if I want it to or not.

I close my eyes, and try to fall into slumber. Surprisingly I do. Tonight I will try and control my dreams. I want to dream of something happy, to counteract the sadness that the reapings tomorrow will bring. Dream of my grandfather still laughing, and dream of myself reflecting him in my grandmother's eyes.


	5. A Boat is Set Afloat

When I wake, I find that Herman is crying. Sherman is sitting on the cot trying to comfort his brother. He sees me and begs me with his eyes for me to help him. My parents aren't awake yet, and I sense that the twins want to keep it that way. I tip-toe over, and caress Herman's cheek.

"What's wrong?" I ask him. He sniffles and looks up at me. The tears streak down his cheek, and I wipe them away with my thumb. "It's okay to tell me."

"I had a bad dream," he says. I know that there is more, so I wait. "Pearl, you were in it, and you died." I let that sink in. I died in his dream. He continues again. "You died, (sniffle) because you were in the Hunger Games."

"Oh, Herman. I'm not going to die," I say. I rub his back as I talk. "I only have a little chance in getting reaped. It won't be me." He brings his hand up to his face, and rub his eyes.

"Ok." He hugs me, and so I hug him back. Sherman is just standing there, so I pull him in too. I squeeze them tightly and they squeal. I only let go, when I see that they need air.

I find in the cupboard, that the green salad is still some-what fresh. I share that with the twins for breakfast. When it's not enough, I use the tesserae grain to make our green tinted rolls. They are salty, and delicious.

By the time that Paul knocks on my door, the twins have fallen back asleep. My parents still lay in slumber, but Nana is crocheting. She nods me out, and I leave with Paul.

Since everyone is off on the day of the reaping, people are sleeping in. They would like to rest up for tonight's celebrations, that signal that their family is safe, or for work tomorrow. They may even want to just escape this world for a while, in a place that the Hunger Games don't exist. I would.

We reach the pond, and it is so peaceful, that I forget all about Herman's dream, and my anxiety. As always, we swim, trying to make the most of our time together.

When I come up for air though, I don't see Paul. He was right here a second ago. So where is he? I know that Paul is a great swimmer, so is it possible that he drowned? I look around, and even wait a few minutes. Nothing. He can't hold his breath that long could he?

I dive under, and don't see anything. I swim to the middle of the pond, and dive farther down. Where is he? Finally, I see him with a reed in his mouth. He's using a homemade snorkel. I swim down to him, and his eyes are wide. He looks so upset that I plead with my eyes so that he will let me help. He nods his head upwards, and we swim to the surface.

"What's wrong Paul?" I ask. He is still looking around at the water frantically. "Tell me."

"I dropped something," he answers, now swishing his arms around, splashing in the water like the thing he dropped would suddenly appear. "No, no, no…" Paul whispers to himself, while he looks around.

"What did you drop?" I ask. He shakes his head. He won't tell me. "What was it? Paul?" He again shakes his head. He looks through the reeds, and picks something glistening up.

"This, is what I dropped. It was my great grandmother's," he says finally showing me the object. I come closer to observe it. It is shiny, and looks very expensive. He hands it to me so that I may look at the greater details.

It is a silver hair pin, with a clam engraved into the middle. In the middle of the clam, there is an indention, lined with tiny prongs. Probably a stone used to be here, and for some reason it was pried out. I turn it over in my fingers, then gently place it back into his hand. I don't want to drop it here in the shallows (that only comes up to my knees), and then have it sink to the bottom.

"Let me see your pearl," Paul says, his eyes still fixed on the pin. I fish the green pearl out of my pocket, where I kept it for the last few days, and hand it to him. He turns the pin over, and places the pearl in the indention. Carefully, he folds the prongs over, so that the pearl is secure. He motions me closer, and slides the pin into my hair with delicate fingers.

I open my mouth to object, but he cuts me off. "Pearlynn, don't you even start. I want you to have it. And I want you to love it. It's the least I can do for having you be such a great best friend all these years," he says. I smile a little.

"Just a best friend?" He grins.

"More than that. You know that. You were always more than that," he replies. I put my arms around his neck, and he buries his face in my hair. Despite the cool water, he is warm, and it instantly warms me up. I can feel the heat on my skin, and can feel it run through the inside of my body too. I don't want to let go. I know he doesn't either, so I stay trapped in his arms. "I love you, you know that?" he asks me.

I am so happy that I reply, "Love you too." I know that we both mean what we say, after being so close to one another all these years. He tilts my head up, and softly brushes his lips against mine. Then he lets go, and we walk hand in hand to the beach.

Happy dreams envelope me as I fall asleep, my head on his chest. The sun shines down on us, like a dream. He plays with my hair softly, and I just can't help myself from drifting to my dreamland.

I dream of the sunsets we share, the familiar splash to my left in the pond, and the way he holds my hand. I even dream of the birthday bread. My pearl shimmering a beautiful sea green.

Paul wakes me up by shaking my shoulder. I look at him happily.

"Morning sunshine. We should head to the square now," Paul tells me. We pack up our things, and walk back to my house. I change in the closet, in my nicest clothes. A short white dress, with sea green buttons leading down the back, paired along with delicated white flats. Paul changes outside behind the house. He is dressed into simple dress pants, and a nice shirt. After that, we head down to the town square. We check in, and wait for the rest of the town to arrive.

The town square is usually so happy, but now with all the solemn faces on the children, the square is sucked of all happiness. Sherman, Herman, my parents, and Nana wait on the outside of the ropes with the other younger children, and adults. They will be waiting for us after the reaping.

Paul and I head over to the roped off area for the 16-year-olds. The square fills up quickly, considering how close to the reaping we are. The square is way to small for everyone in the district so T.V. screens will show the reaping to the people who will stay in the streets adjacent to the square.

Paul grabs my hand and keeps his grasp, as the process of the reaping begins. I'm glad, because I am starting to shake just a little bit.

The glass balls filled with the names on slips of paper are rolled out. I wonder who wrote my name so carefully on those slips. I hope that they wrote Pearlynn, not Pearl. The council that must be present during the ceremony walk onto the stage, and take their seats. Middle aged men in suits, women, in pencil skirts.

Then there's the mayor, Augustus Sullivan. He looks incredibly old and fragile compared to the Peacekeepers that surround him. He starts to give the annual speech about how the Hunger Games came to be after the Dark Days, and the rebellion. I have heard the tale so many times, that I know everything there is to know about it. After the speech, he takes his seat.

A capitol woman, Jacci Periwinkle comes up to the stage. Compared to the other district's escorts she is a freakshow. She wears thin heeled high-heels once called stilettos. Her skin is inlaid with orange gems, that form goldfishes. Green tatoos grace her arms, making her look like seaweed has taken hold of her body. Her skin is died blue to look like the sea.

She must think that she has to represent the district that she serves as an escort for, but she should know we're all for beautiful sea creatures, not horrid sea beasts. She wears a pink headdress over her blue hair, to imitate coral. She steps up to the podium to start the reaping.

She gives a welcome, "Happy Hunger Games," in a shrill, ridiculous Capitol accent and talks about how it is such a pleasure to see us. Lies. Like every other escort in all of Panem, she says, "Ladies first."

I don't know any of the other girls at school, so I don't worry about them. I worry about me. If any one of those other girls were to be reaped, I might not even care, but if I was…

In silence, we wait for her to pull a slip. She reaches to the bottom of the bowl and finally picks a slip between her index finger and her thumb. She walks back to the podium, and my heart races faster. She opens her mouth, and the dreaded words finally come out.

"Pearlynn Fisher."

The beating of my heart stops for a moment. Surely she didn't really say my name. This isn't real, isn't real…

Peacekeepers surround me, and try to take me up to the stage. They try to make me let go of Paul, but I won't let them. This is the only thing keeping me anchored. I need his hand.

I'm totally stunned. I don't know what to do. I can see people making a path for me, but I don't move. I look to Paul, and he flashes me a strained smile. He squeezes my hand slightly, and lets go. He has set me go, like a boat. My anchor.

I finally force my feet to shuffle along the way, but the Peacekeepers are really the only thing keeping me going. If it weren't for them, I would be frozen in my spot.

All the way up to the stage, I try and figure out if I am still dreaming. Surely I am still sleeping by the pond in the sunshine. Surely the reaping isn't until later. I only realize that I'm not dreaming, when I spot Herman crying. He sobbing into my mother's skirt, while my whole family stands hand in hand in silence. Nana has brought out the green hankerchief and hides her face.

I mount the steps, and stand there. The whole crowd stares at me in silence. No one says anything, so Jacci continues on.

"Gentlemen," she says. Now I pray that Paul is safe. I can barely bear the thought of me being in the games, but Paul being in them would break my heart. I keep my eyes locked on his as the name is finally stated. "Danny Brooke."

The boy is a year older than I am, but, sometimes I see him around. He lives in the Bottom Feeders too, but he looks strong. A worthy career, while I am just a shrimp, and don't have many skills. Perfect, just perfect.

I don't hear Jacci say "May the odds be ever in your favor," but I'm sure she did. They're all required to say that. We are forced to shake hands, and I am surprised to find that his hands are colder than mine. The anthem booms through the speakers, and I'm glad, because I let out a gasp that I didn't even know I was holding.

After the anthem ends, Danny and I are ushered into the Justice Building. We are then escorted to separate rooms in which we are to say our goodbyes. In the time that I am alone, I feel so numb. I don't cry, don't break down, don't feel anything.

Nana is shoved into the room, and the feelings finally begin to rain on me. We sit on the couch crying. Nana has the green hankerchief, but all I have is her shoulder. I cry, and cry, and cry until our time is almost up.

Nana wipes a tear away with her fingers, and she whispers in my ear, with a small smile playing at the corners of her lips, "Don't get home to late Pearlynn. I love you." I just hug her tighter. The peacekeepers enter and usher her out, but not before she plants a kiss on my cheek.

My parents finally come in with the twins. My eyes must be red and puffy, but I smile anyway.

"Hey guys," I say, as they bring me into an embrace. We stand there for a moment, and just take in the moment. I finally pull back, and they bombard me with their talking.

"Win Pearl. Win for me," Herman says.

"Win for us," Sherman corrects him. I smile.

"I'll do my best, ok?" I hug them once more. Then I turn to my parents.

"You win okay?" my mother says, caressing my hand. I nod.

My dad rubs my hair affectionately. "Pearlynn, you do whatever you must to get home. You are coming back." I can only nod, but I know that the chances of me winning are slim to none. I notice that he calls me by my name instead of 'Pearl'. Was there a reason? Did he know I wasn't coming back?

My time ends, and they too are taken away, and I wait more.

I hear arguing outside right before Paul bursts through the door, "… care if time is gone, I'm seeing her."

He opens his arms, and I run into them. The door closes, and we get some privacy. He tilts my head up, and kisses me. Even with the tension of the moment, he keeps it so soft and gentle, that I imagine us back on the porch, or by the pond.

He lets go, and fresh tears springs to my eyes. He holds my hand, and fiddles with my hair to relax me. It does, for the moment.

When he finally has to leave, he says, "I love you Pearlynn. Remember me in there." and he's gone. I understand what he wants though. He wants me to wear the hair pin as my token, and I will wear it. I will hang on to him as I die.

I finally am escorted down to the train. Cameras swarm around Danny, and me like bugs, but I don't fight them. I'm scared that I will break down before I reach the train but I don't. The puffiness has went down, and my eyes aren't red, so I play it like I feel nothing. I look at Danny and see that he really didn't cry at all.

Once on the train, the door seals, and tears begin to spill, but this time I am surrounded by Danny, Mags, another mentor, who's name is unknown, and Jacci Periwinkle instead of my family. I take a last glance at District 4, and collapse on the floor.


	6. Plucked, and Prodded

**Okay, I hate to do this, but I have no choice. I will not update until I have reached 8 reviews, and they can't all be from Ellii101. She(pretty sure it's a she) has been very loyal in reviewing, but now I need all the other people who read this, to take two seconds out of their day to review for me. I know, it's terrible, *rolls eyes***

**I made this chapter extra long, to tempt you into reviewing for me. :]**

**So, please, please, and pretty please review! Thanks! ;D**

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I wake up, and the room is black. I look out my window, and see that is very dark outside too. It must be very late. I must have been asleep for hours, but I am still tired. I hop back in bed, not even noticing my surroundings. All I know is that I need to sleep.

"Wake, up tributes!" Jacci sings shrilly. It echoes down the halls of the train all the way to my room. I don't remember how I got here.

The bed that I wake up in isn't even close to mine. The sheets are too soft, and luxurious to be my second hand ones. The pillows are full, instead of flat. Talk about classy.

I am on a train headed to the Capitol. Last night, I was just so tired that I forgot that I was a tribute, and that I wasn't at home. I really don't know how I could confuse this place with my home no matter how sleepy I was. Oh well.

I crawl out of bed, but fall into a heap on the floor. I'm still a bit groggy, and I just can't think of how I got in this room, and in this bed. The last memory I had, other than waking up last night was the way that District 4 looked through the train window. How I miss it.

I am a bit glad that my dress is still on, because I would die if whoever set me on my bed had seen my body, while changing me into night wear. I step into the bathroom, and it is huge. A huge bath, built in with a shower.

My muscles are tight, so I strip down, and unwrap the bandage and weeds from my hand. They are old, and probably won't stay on again, so I throw them in the trash bin. I gulp as I examine my hand, it looks better, but it still isn't healed. Oh, well. They'll fix it up, I think. Then I step into the shower. I thought that people on T.V. exaggerated about how great it was compared to a bath, but now as the jets shoot water at me, I melt.

There is a control pad, to select water pressure, soap, etc., but I am overwhelmed. I keep the water warm, and lightly pressured. It does great things for my body, but my burnt hand stings. I use an almond and shea butter shampoo paired with conditioner. I scrub down my body, with a fresh smelling soap, that almost reminds me of the little bars that I used at home.

I step out, and find that I don't need to towel myself off. Air comes rushing up out of nowhere, and I am instantly dry. My hair is untangled and dried, by simply resting my hand on a panel.

I search the bathroom cabinets for ointment or something, to help my hand but find nothing. No bandages, salvents or pills. Nothing. Since there is nothing I don't bother looking in my room. I do remember to brush my teeth before I leave the bathroom though. I can't stand having a dirty mouth.

When I get back into my room, I remember how I don't have any clothes. I search the drawers, and find clothes, that I would wear to a party if I had them. I pull on a light blue shirt, and simple black leggings.

Before I leave my room, I gather all of my things. I don't want to lose them. If I die, they can always be sent back, but right now they are the only things keeping me connected to District 4.

I slip the hair pin into my hair,freshly washed and dried, trying to keep my hair out of my face. The pin in my hair, just reminds me of home, and Paul, so a fresh wave of tears crash down. I don't care though, I can have a little bit of self pity. The tears dry out quickly enough, but anyone could tell that they had made an appearance.

I slip out of my room, and walk down to the dining hall. Everyone glances up as I enter. They can probably tell that I have been crying; they probably think I am weak. To get away from the stares, I take a seat farthest from everyone else.

They continue talking, but I don't listen in. My stomache begs for food, so I fill my plate. Before I even take a bite, I think of everyone else starving at home. I wish I could send all this food back there.

With a guilty conscience, I dive into the food. Fluffy, flat cakes topped with syrup, a mysterious sweet green melon, eggs, and applesauce. The others keep talking, so I keep eating.

After I have eaten, until my stomache can hold no more, I zone out, staring out the window. The light outside disappears, and we are plunged into darkness, not far from the Capitol now. I keep staring at the darkness though, lost in my thoughts. I don't even notice Jacci trying to get my attention. I only turn around, when Danny throws a roll at the back of my head.

I spin around and shoot him a quizzical look. "What?" I ask. I haven't heard one thing that they have been talking about.

Mags anwers me. "Pearlynn, we were trying to contemplate whether you two should train together or separately. Which do you think would work better?"

My mind is blank. I can't think of a reason why I would want to train separately. I have only the basic skills of District 4. He must know that I have no secret talent. On the other hand, I think of why I would like to train together either. Only one of us can live anyway, so why be allies if we would have to split anyways?

"I don't know," I anwer. "There is no reason for either. If we train separately, he won't know my skills, but I barely have any. If we work together, we'll have to split in the arena anyway, so whatever you guys think is best."

Everyone evaluates the decisions, and it is decided that we will work as a team, for a while; we could always split up later. I don't argue, what will the difference be really? I listen in, but I can't concentrate.

"You missed out on a lot of stuff last night," Danny tells me in a quiet voice so the adults can keep talking to one another. He rubs his head full of dark hair that resembles mine, and gains eye contact. I look back, and can see that like most of the other Bottom Feeder kids, he shares my eyecolor as well. Even my tanned skin. We could be related.

"I know," I reply. Then I get an idea. "Did you bring me to my room last night?" I ask. Danny blushes a tad.

"Yeah. You collapsed on the floor, after about ten minutes on the train. You looked so scared, and you just fainted. So, I took you to your room. I thought that you would wake up later, but you didn't."

"Oh, well thank you," I say.

"No problem." Danny was really nice. I really hope that if I die in the arena, that he will win. He is just that great, and kind. Even in District 4, I would bump into him sometimes, or see him talking to his friends, and I just couldn't help thinking how great he was. I guess you can say I used to have a crush on him. (I still do, a little bit.)

I try to listen in on the conversation again, but now I can't concentrate, again.

The other mentor, (what is his name?) scrutinizes me, with scrunched up features. He is in his thirties at least, but the stress has brought on streaks of gray in his brown hair. I try not to let it bother me, but it becomes to much.

I turn to him, and ask, "May I help you?" He shakes his head, but continues to stare.

"No," he croaks. I look over to Danny, and he shrugs.

"Don't mind Marley. Or as I like to call him, Marlin," he says. I glance at Mags, and she shrugs. So I ignore him, but that staring is still bothering me.

Light streams into the dining cart, and Jacci squeals. "We're here!"

Despite being disgusted with the Capitol, and the Games, I rush over and stare out the window. The Capitol is gleaming with lights, even with the daylight. Unlike the districts, the Capitol is sparkling clean. People are walking on the streets, and they turn their attention to the train, and wave. I don't want to smile, so I slink back. If I frown at them, they will hate me instantly, so better not to let them see me at all.

Danny stays seated at the table, he has no intention of trying to see the Capitol. He hates it more than I do, despite his great personality and attitude.

When we finally reach the heart of the Capitol, we are ushered from the room into a building. We are issued into the care of our prep teams, who will take care of our appearances.

At first, I don't think it will be that bad, eventhough they are all freak shows, because of their actions. They compliment me on everything. They say that I am a natural beauty with my sea green eyes, and my dark, shiny hair, and lightly tanned skin from so much time in the sun. I even blush a bit, but then they start working on me, and I start to hate them for lying to me. If I was a natural beauty, they would leave me alone. Not try and change me.

My prep team tuts about this and that. They make me strip, and I feel so nervous, and uncomfortable about them observing my body, with their wide eyes and long nails, that are polished to perfection.

Then, they wax my body of all hair, except for my eyebrows and hair on my head. They make me bathe in a vile bath, probably full of chemicals. They don't even mind as I screech in pain, because my hand is rejecting the bath. By the end of it, my skin burns, and stings, and I hate these people. But at the same moment, I know they are harmless, and clueless. So, I decide that I do not like, nor hate them.

Listra takes the liberty to polish my nails, and file them to perfection. A light, shimmery pinkish purple color.

Iren, is a very annoying prep assistant. He looks at me, and it is almost worse than the others, Tericotta and Listra, the ladies. I feel self conscious, especially when he prods my body. I have awkward written on my face. I feel like this guy is trying to make me uncomfortable. He even whispers in my ear, how beautiful I am. Talk about creepy.

They finally treat my hand with an ointment, and it feels better, but I'm afraid that everyone will see how red it is tonight as we parade around the Capitol in the chariots. Maybe it will cool down a bit by then.

"She's ready!" Terricotta screamed to Listra and Iren. They were being stupid, because they told me that they didn't want my stylist to see me until I was ready. How ready did I need to be? Apparently now I was ready enough.

I pulled on my thin robe, and they lead me into another room, and told me to wait. When someone finally walked in, it was a young lady, no older than 25. I was surprised to see how young she was. Was she new? She must be.

Her hair was fiery, and reminded me of the flame that licked my hand. Unlike all the other Capitol people I have seen, she was one of the few people that looked almost normal. She wore a dressy green blouse, paired with a short black skirt. Her eyes are lined with a black liner, and accented with a green eyeshadow that contains flecks of gold. She looked me over, then set herself on a chair beside me. Her emerald eyes looked glassy, like a doll's eyes. She blinks and introduced herself.

"Hello, my name is Lilias. You must be Pearlynn, my victim," she says playfully to me. I smile, and think how nice she is compared to my prep team. She smiles back, and strokes my hand. "I'm very sorry about the games, but while you are in my care, I have to make you look amazing. Is that all right?"

"Fine," I answer. I really hope that she won't make me look like a freak. She doesn't make me strip or anything, so I begin to like her a lot. She tells me that she wants to do my makeup first, so I close my eyes, relax, and let her go at it.

Once Lilias is done, she doesn't let me see how I look. She tells me that she wants it to be a surptise. She wants to blow my mind with the final product. I really want to see, but I don't push the matter. If she can become a stylist for the games so young, I won't doubt her abilities.

Then, Lilias curls my hair in such a way, that they don't come out in ringlets, but is waves. I can see from the loose strands on my shoulders, that the waves are reflecting the light onto my hair. To finish the hairstyle, she slips a pinkish, purple headbad that glows a bit into my hair.

Lilias calls the prep team in, and they say that I look gorgeous. In the time that they rave about my beauty, and I stare down Iren who is looking at me like I'm a piece of meat, Lilias fetches my outfit. She brings back a dress covered by white plastic. She unfolds it and I gasp.

She slips it over my head, and laces up the back. The prep team starts obsessing again, and can't stop complimenting me. She fixes the bust, and turns me around so that I may see.

My face is beautiful. Stunning. My eyes are lined with a black/brown liner. And my eyelashes are long and full. My cheeks are rosy, and my lips are a shade that can only be made by piling and mixing different pink and purple colors. Even my eyelids are colored a light pink. All of this is framed by my wavy dark brown hair.

The dress is a light pink, mixed with glowing purple lines running up and down the bodice and skirt. I note, that my headband matches exactly. The top is very form fitting, but once it reaches my hips, it bubbles out and then falls down in little strands. The strands that fall down, reveal my legs, but the glowing fabric are so mesmerizing, that I barely notice, and I know that no one will pay much attention to them. I look like a graceful jelly fish. The funny thing is, is that all the shades of pink are beautiful together not overwhelming.

"Well, what do you think?" Lilias asks me. She smiles and I flash one right back at her.

"Pink is now my second favorite color," I reply. I love the way I look so much. I can't stop staring at myself. I am not a Capitol freak, but a beauty icon. I finally turn around. "Thank you so much."

She smiles. "Glad you like it."

"And thank you guys," I say to my prep team. Listra and Tericotta take the compliment like a regular Capitol person would, but Iren goes to make me uncomfortable.

"It was nice working with you," he whispers gesturing to my body. I blush, but I am ready to slap him. Lilias must notice my predicament, because she ushers the prep team away.

"Thank you," I say. She shrugs, and soon takes me out of the room. We are taken backstage, where the chariots, and the rest of the tributes are getting ready for the parade. I spot Danny, with his stylist, Onvin, and I notice that he is dressed somewhat similar.

He wears a bluish, purple shirt, that glows like my dress. The sleeves are long, and cover his arms, but the strands of fabric flow off of them. His pants are the same color, and glow but they don't contain any tentacles.

We step into our carriage, that will be pulled by sea foam white hoses, and are told to wait for the parade. Danny stares at me. I can see out of the corner of my eye that he is staring, but he doesn't stop.

"You look beautiful," he says to me. He moves a stray hair out of my face, and tucks it behind my ear. I blush a pink that stands out from my makeup.

"Thank you," I say. "You look wonderful too." I do hope that he knows we can't become good friends right before the games. And he must know that we can't have feelings for each other right? I hope he does. 'What am I thinking?' I ask myself. 'You are over reacting, all he did was compliment you. Don't get ahead of yourself there.'

"You know," he says, but is interrupted. The other tributes are mounting the chariots, and are fixing the rest of their costumes. Lilias and Onvin are smiling at us, and tell us to stand a bit closer together. Danny rests his hand next to mine, but I try not to overreact. It's fine.

We both look up as the doors finally open, and the District One tributes are taken out. I wish I knew all their names, or how they reacted at the reaping, but when I fainted yesterday, I missed everything. I slept for over 12 hours. That sucks.

The chariot in front of us follows out and I know that our turn will come soon. The chariot starts to roll, and I can see the outside. Danny places his hand on mine, and I freak out a little, but is too late to say anything. The light blinds me as we are finally pulled into the view of the Capitol.


	7. A Death Flower and Golden Gazes

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, Mags, or anything like that. I only own some of the characters.**

**Review please! Oh and sorry if this isn't one of the best chapters! :P**

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The crowd cheers as our chariot pulls out onto the streets of the Capitol. I can see tons of people just shouting, and screaming unintelligible words, and others chant, 'District four!'. Even a few shout my name.

"Pearlynn!" a young man screams. He like all the other Capitol citizens, is overdressed, and is as fake as plastic, but I blush, smile, and give a small wave anyway. He smiles animately, but his next words are drowned out by the rest of the crowd.

A whole group of ladies swoon, and shout to Danny. One proposes marriage, and faints when Danny notices her, and smiles back. Danny's face turns red instantly, after seeing what an effect he can have, but he continues to smile. I catch his gaze and and raise my eyebrow slightly. If he hates the Capitol, then why is he doing this? But I already know. Because he doesn't hate the people, but the government itself. He is able to stand these silly people, because he knows what is at stake here. And maybe for once, he is able to enjoy being bathed in attention when back home in the Bottom Feeders, he had nothing but his great uncle left. He laughs, and pats my hand. I'm actually a bit glad that his hand rests on mine. If it weren't, my hand would fall to my side, and start to shake.

It's just, so energizing. I mean, all of these people have come to see us. They know our names. We are the talk of the stuck-up heart of Panem. I feel like I could run for miles without taking a breath. Invinsible; that's how I feel. I am hesitant though. If I smile too much, people will think that I am no better than these citizens, when in truth, I am disgusted by their habits, and their idea of entertainment.

Every time that a man/boy shouts my name, or a boy compliments me, I blush and give a small smile. I am so shy around people in general really. Even the ladies who shout at me make me blush.

Then it hits me, so suddenly, that I have to hold back a grin. Shy, smart, hesitant. That could be my angle! It is so much like me anyway. What better way to play the Capitol, then to be myself, but on a higher intensity level? This could actually work! I don't need to pretend, I can actually go along with an angle all on my own.

Caught up in the moment, I smile, wave, and even blow a few kisses. People throw flowers at us as we go along. We near a huge screen, and I finally notice how great we are looking to the capitol.

Our costumes are glowing, and illuminating our faces in beautiful, cool colors. The glowing does help with the overall appearance, but the thing that really makes us shine is our expressions. Compared to the other tributes, we are actually favoring the Capitol. Our eyes shine with hesitant happiness, and our smiles, although shy, stand out of our faces, almost blinding me with natural light.

The metallic faces of the District One tributes, are beautiful, but are unhappy, and scowling. Plain trees in Seven, that never seem to change. The coal miners in District Twelve are dirty, and straight out frowning. We are one of the only pairs of tributes, trying to win over the favor of the potential sponsors.

I mean if looks could effect someone physically, we would stun, paralyze, and kill. Every person in a five-mile-radius would suddenly drop dead. I think this is what Lilias and Onvin planned for us. To look amazing, and become completely unforgettable this year, and for all the years to come, even if we die.

On the screens, I can see all of the other tributes in their chariots. I want to know very badly about what their names are, and how they reacted to being reaped. Did they begin to cry, showing immediately that they were weak? Pump their fists in the air, and blanket the allusion of fearlessness, and courageousness to all that watched? Did they cling onto their loved ones, and beg to be spared. Did they stand rooted to the spot in silent horror and refuse to believe that their name had been called so briefly? Did they retire to the idea that their fate was sealed? Did anyone, in a moment of madness volunteer?

We near the end of the chariot ride. We circle around a balcony, and form a semi circle. President Snow sits on a chair at the top, and is shown as a close-up on the biggest screen, I have ever seen. There are others, smaller throughtout the streets, so everyone will witness this moment.

He sweeps his eyes across the semi-circle of tributes. He examines everyone of us, with his snake-like eyes, and it freaks me out to find that I am one of the people that he keeps his gaze on for a while. His pupils narrow in on my face, but I try to keep looking sort of happy no matter what. I don't want to let the crowd know that the President's stare gives me chills.

Finally, Snow begins to talk about the Hunger Games, and the honor you are giving your district when you compete in them. Since it is basically the same speech every year, I drone out the first part. I mean how many times do we have to be reminded that we have to die, for other's stupid mistakes? Come on!

I take this time to really evaluate the other tributes. As always, the career pack is full of huge monstrous, killing machines. The boys are muscular, and the girls follow right behind them. The only person not big enough is me. I mean I have muscles, especially on my arms and legs, from swimming, but I am small. These other tributes tower over me. Why does God hate me? Why did he make me naturally small?

Almost all of the other tributes are weak and scrawny. A few stick out despite almost all of them being Bottom Feeder material. A boy from six, who has a big build, the girl from 8 who's hands are calloused, her face is scrunched up in a never ending scowl, both tributes from 10, who look healthy and strong, and the boy from 11, who looks terribly fragile, and young as well as the girl, who looks tired, and starved.

I finally tune into what the President has to say. He talks about how this year's Hunger Games is going to be spectacular. Then he goes on to question who shall win.

"A worthy tribute from, District One, Two, or Four? Or an underdog from the others? A strong male, or a clever female?" he says, and the crowd goes 'hmm' right on cue.' I find that when he says clever, he looks down at me, and when he says strong he looks at my partner.

"This year is definitely going to be a great one. I wish all of out tributes luck, in the 53rd Hunger Games!" he finishes. The crowd begins another cheer, and the anthem blares through gigantic speakers. We all begin to roll out in the order that we came in. A straight and file line of chariots.

They throw flowers at us, and I catch one in my hand. I look up to see if I may be able to catch the thrower, but I see no one in particular that could have thrown it. I finally realize that the flower is a lily, and I remember something that my grandfather said many years ago before he died, when he wasn't sick, and he was able to take me fishing, swimming, and was able to tell me stories.

Paul and I had taken my grandfather to our pond one day. I remember how the old man had smiled, when we had told him to close his eyes, and come with us. We walked him all the way to the pond, with his eyes closed. We finally let him open them when we had reached the beach. He ran and actually jumped right into the pool without hesitation. My grandpa could still swim fairly well, despite being 56 years old.

We sat in the shallows, and grandfather stared at a lily that was growing alongside the weeds. He picked the flower, and showed it to the two of us. He rubbed the petal between his fingers, and ever so lightly plucked it off. Then he started his tale,

"Long ago, in a salt-water sea, a young girl, named Lily was lost in a terrible storm on a ship. She was thrown over the side, and the ship sank. All of the people she had ever known were on the ship, or back on the island that she grew up on, including her entire family.

With no ship to sail back on, Lily was trapped in the water. SHe would never be able to return to her homeland, but she did not mourn. She swam her hardest, and fought bravely against the sea ,which she was hostage towards.

Three days after the sinking of the ship, she came across an island. She rested there and was taken care of by a family who had lost their daughter to a terrible disease.

The family was struck by how innocent the child was. When they asked her where her parents were, she responded, 'Asleep on the bottom of the ocean.' When the family asked where she came from she said, 'From the sea.' And when they asked where she was going she only responded with, 'Forward.'

The girl grew up, with the same innocence she had possessed all her life. She even fell in love with a man that cared deeply for her. The man was a merchant.

One day the merchant was robbed, and killed. Lily was thrown into despair, and mourned her lost love. She swore that she would one day avenge his death.

She set out to find the man that had killed her love. She finally caught him trying to rob and kill another merchant across the island. She pulled out a trident that the local fishermen had traded her for a pearl bracelet. She plunged the trident's forked edges into the robber's chest, killing him instantly, saving the merchant. In doing so, she lost her innocence that had been bestowed upon her during birth.

She lived to be very old, and very wise. When she had died, her soul passed into the afterlife, and renewed the innocence she had once had.

At that exact moment, a flower unlike any other, bloomed outside her window. A lily. Ever since then, the lily was a sign to show the soul's parting of the living, into the innocence of the dead."

Paul and I were in love with his stories. Even this one was great despite the tragedies that take place in it.

"Grandpa, did she ever see the merchant again, after she died?" I asked. I was very young then, but I loved happy endings. He nodded.

"After death, Lily looked for the merchant, and found him waiting for her in a meadow of her flowers. He had waited many years for her to join him. They still loved each other very much. When Lily asked where he went, the merchant said, that he never left, because he was in her heart. He was there the whole time," my grandfather said.

"How do you know when you love someone?" Paul asked my grandpa. Grandfather chuckled.

"You love someone, when you would die to save them, and would wait like the merchant for the one you love. Why, do you love someone other than your family?" grandfather asked him, while he glanced between him and me. Paul blushed, and so did I.

"No," Paul said. "I was just wondering."

I was so young then, and yet I still remember it. I wonder if the thrower knows what this flower means. That's not very likely though.

We finally reach the end, and are taken back out of sight behind giant doors. We step off the chariot, and are complimented by our stylists, our prep teams, Jacci, and our mentors.

"Great job, sweeties,"Mags says, while giving us hugs. Over her shoulder, I see that Marley is staring at me once again. Did I do something wrong? I'm not that interesting am I? I just keep listening to Lilias and Onvin's praise so that I won't obsess over his staring problem.

"Now, my lovelies, you are going to go to your rooms, rest, and then we'll have dinner," Jacci says.

"Are the rooms the same as on the train?" I ask. She laughs like a silly little girl, and shakes her head full of frizzy, blue hair.

"God no! You have a whole floor to yourselves. Floor four. There is a dining room, with a magnificent mahogany wood table and chair set, a living room, filled with a large couch, a love seat, and chairs. And your rooms! They are **so** much bigger than those, cupboards on the trains," she says with a superior tone. She goes on about the details of our floor, but I am only half listening. I can't even wrap my head around something that big. From the way she describes it, it must be larger than the Justice Building in Four.

We are then whisked away, to elevators. Some of the other tributes are waiting for a ride too. Peacekeepers let us through with a ton of other tributes. Some, like me stay silent. Others like Danny try to keep the conversation flowing. Others only chime in every once in a while. They talk, but I can't even tell what it is about. Costumes? Chariots? Death?

Every few minutes we reach a floor, and a few people get off. We finally reach our floor, and step off, to go to our rooms.

We step inside, and my breath is caught in my throat. It is amazing. The floor is just as Jacci described it, everything. Mahogany wood. Plush couches and chairs. A marble staircase. T.V. screens.

"Wow," I hear Danny say behind me. I nod. Wow indeed. No matter how hard I try to hate the Capitol and it's over expensive furnishings, I can't help but be pulled into a mixture of envy and awe. We take some time to look around. By the time we are almost familiar with the place, our mentors show up.

"Let's get you to your rooms," Mags says, taking me and Danny by the shoulders. We are stopped by Marley.

"I will take the girl. Go on now," he says. Mags and Danny disappear behind a corner, and I am left with Marley. He gestures me to follow him, so I do. He leads me to my room, where I will be able to spend my extra time, being idle, although I would rather be productive.

He sits on my bed, and I wait. He must want to tell me something. Maybe he is apologizing for all the staring earlier, but I get the feeling that he is not one to apologize for simple things such as that, which really do not matter when it comes down to it.

"Look here girl," Marley whispers gruffly. "Don't go kissing up to the Capitol yet, like you were in the parade today. They aren't doing you any favors, other than putting you out of your misery before you starve to death in District Four."

"I am not kissing up to the Capitol," I say. How could he assume that after one parade, where I barely was able to smile due to my shyness, that I would actually like the Capitol, and the death they prepared for me. "I was just being myself."

"Well don't be yourself," he says getting worked up. Darkness starts to cover his features, and his pupils dialate. His temper flared so quickly, and he looks so insane now that it astounds me. "You need to work with the angle we gave you."

"But, you didn't give me an angle yet," I say. Did he really forget all of this? Was he staring at me all this time that he forgot?

"Yes we did, Naida! We need to stick to the plan. We need to get you out alive! We need to, you promised you would. You said you would for me!"

"Naida? My name is Pearlynn," I say. His face contorts into agony. He curls up onto my bed and starts to cry. He sobs, and choking sounds escape him, just like when I sob. He just lays there in a ball, and I am so confused, and freaked out. I try comforting him, but what can I say? I know nothing about this guy!

"Shh.. It will be okay. It will be alright." I pat his back awkwardly. What am I suppose to do?

He lies there for a long time. Mags comes into my room, after so long, and rubs his back soothingly. I leave her to her work. Marley finally gets up, and his eyes, are red and puffy like mine were this morning. He leaves me alone, and I wonder what just happened. Who is Naida?

Marley and Mags leave withought further explanation. Probably don't want me to get all in their business, but still.

I change into my clothes from earlier, and fold my costumes as neatly as I can, and set it on a chair. Then I lay down on my bed. I don't even bother to take off my makeup. What's the point right now? I can do it later.

Just as my thoughts are beginning to consume me, I am called for dinner. I sit down in a chair farthest from Marley, who actually came to dinner despite his mental breakdown in my room. Danny looks at me curiously, and I mouth, 'later' to him.

Avoxes enter the room, and serve us a real feast. We start with honey-butter on hot and freah rolls, and a light lemony soup. The main course consists of a thick slab of brisket, corn straight off the cob, buttered pees, more fresh rolls, and sweet potatoes casserole. Unlike at home, we have dessert. A creamy pudding, with slices of tropical fruit.

By the end of the meal, I am so full, that I feel almost sick. I look around and see that everyone else is fine. The adults are drinking glasses of alcohol, and Danny is shoving in mountains of pudding into his mouth.

"How can you not be full?" I ask him. If I am so full, then why isn't he? He shrugs.

"I learned my lesson last night. I was worse than you; I actually threw up. Just remember not to stuff yourself on all the rich stuff, and save room for more," he says.

"I'll try to remember," I say. But even thinking about going slow right now seems hard.

"Pearlynn, make sure you eat a lot though. You need to put on some weight for the Games. You could starve, so better to eat now," Mags says from across the table. I nod, but I am done eating for right now.

After dinner is done, we file into the living room. There is a re-cap of the entire parade. We watch that, and then are ordered to bed.

Lying on my bed in my pajamas, I can't fall asleep. I hear the parties in the street below, and it is distracting. I try to dream about the pond, and Paul by stroking the pin, but it is too hard.

When I can no longer hear anyone, I slip out of my room. There is a window in the living room, big enough for me to see outside, so I go and sit on the ledge, and watch the lights sparkle. But this is not what I want.

I sit down on the couch, and turn on the T.V. Fortunately, there is a recording of the reaping, so I decide to watch it.

From it, I see that many acted like I thought they would. Aventrine, the girl from One, volunteered, for a girl younger than her. The boy, Cade beat on his chest in triumph. The District Two tributes, Jamari and Virgil acted much the same,(without volunteering). The rest of the tributes acted much like me. Rooted to the spot, and speechless. One that really stuck out though, was the District Eleven girl tribute, Safiya. She didn't complain as the Peacekeepers escorted her to the stage. She didn't cry, smile or anything. She wasn't numb, because the pain showed in her golden eyes, but she still didn't cry.

After the reaping recording was over, I turn off the T.V. The intensity in the golden brown eyes of Safiya had burned so brightly, that I can almost feel her gaze in the darkness.

I creep back into my bed, no longer struggling with sleep. I lie on the pillow, and try to dream, and I am falling asleep, but is not to the splash in the pond, or the crackle of the hearth in my house, or Nana's whispering; it is to the pained, yet patient gaze of the dark skinned girl from District Eleven.


	8. Naida

**Ok, this super, duper, short chapter is not from Pearlynn's point of view. It is from Marley/Marlin's. Anyway, let's get on with the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games!**

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At breakfast, Jacci, and Mags talk to the tributes, and I hope that they listen to what they have to say. I see that the girl, doesn't listen. She just stares out the window into the blackness.

The boy, what's-his-name throws a roll at her head, and she finally turns around, and I am able to see her face clearly. I never got to see it before, because she passed out, but now, I can't believe my eyes.

Naida. Oh, my precious Naida has come back to me! She has never left! I scrutinize her face. Can it really be? It can't - she is gone.

But her hair, is so dark, just as her's was. And those bright sea-green orbs laced with red and puffiness match my love's so perfectly. Her face, everything is just as it was. How can it be anyone but my Naida?

I block out any sounds, so that I may simply look at my Naida. That means that this is still the 36th Hunger Games; all those terrible memories are just nightmares. I can still save my Naida!

She turns around, and asks, "May I help you?"

"No," I croak back. My throat is just so closed up, I am speechless. My beautiful Naida isn't dead. She still must go through the arena. She still has a chance.

Just like in those nightmares, Naida jumps up to see the Capitol as we reach it. The heart of Panem. She looks astounded, but she does not smile. She backs away, and finishes her meal.

After breakfast, Naida, and the boy leave to see their stylists. I have no where to go, nothing to do, so I take a nap. I dream about Naida, and everything we have been through.

I remember when I was reaped. She was so devastated, and she was so scared for me.

"You come back to me," she said through silent tears, and a strong and steady voice. "You come back, ok? I love you very much." She embraced me, and I never wanted her to leave, but she had to. I promised I would come back, and three weeks later, I did. I survived for her. The whole, stubborn her.

Then, the next year, yesterday apparently, she was reaped. I would be one of her mentors, and I promised myself that I would bring her back.

Now the nightmares filed in. I dream the same thing for the millionth time. We work hard to give her an angle, and perfect her for everything, but still she is intent on being herself. She smiles, and waves, and that is not in her angle.

I stress that she can't be herself in the games, but she rolls her eyes and says that if I can get out alive, then she can too.

Three days into the games, her stubborn self insists that her and her partner move downstream. They walk downstream, and talk and have a great time. Then, other Careers file in, and set a battle in motion. Her partner is pinned down by a larger tribute, but she still interferes. The tribute turns to her, as she tries to form an alliance with her good natured self. Not her angle. The other Careers disagree. She keeps insisting, until one tribute can not take it any longer. Her pulls out his sword, and slashes. She steps back and trips on a weed. Then the Career plunges the sword into her stomache, spurting blood across the ground. They kill her partner and leave. The canon booms, signaling, that Naida's heart has stopped.

I woke up, and shook the thought from my head. Naida dead? Not possible.

I watch our tributes as they roll along the Capitol's streets in a chariot. I notice that Naida's smiles, and waves are hesitant, unlike the ones in the nightmares. Naida wasn't even shy; why would she pretend to be so in this parade?

Later, I stare at Naida. I give her the eyes saying that we need to talk, but she looks at me funny, like she doesn't know me. I will have to talk to her by force if I need to.

As Mags is about to show them their rooms on the floor, I stop them. "I will take the girl. Go on now," I say. She walks away with what's-his-face, and I lead my love to her room.

"Look here girl," I whisper gruffly. "Don't go kissing up to the Capitol yet, like you were in the parade today. They aren't doing you any favors, other than putting you out of your misery before you starve to death in District Four." Sure the smiles were way more hesitant, but I can't take chances. Not when it came to her.

"I am not kissing up to the Capitol," she says. "I was just being myself."

"Well don't be yourself," I say getting worked up, and my temper flares. Why must she make me the bad guy? "You need to work with the angle we gave you."

"But, you didn't give me an angle yet," she says.

What? I told her about angles last night, in her room. She said that she would listen. She promised. "Yes we did, Naida! We need to stick to the plan. We need to get you out alive! We need to, you promised you would. You said you would for me!"

"Naida? My name is Pearlynn," she says. What? Then- where is my Naida? What year is it? Are the nightmares true?

I am grief stricken, and curl up on this worthless girl's bed. Then why am I alive? Why am I not with her?

The girl pats my back and tries to soothe me, but only Mags can do that now. She comes in and does some magic. I am able to pull myself up, and leave. I reach my room, and lay on my bed to cry.

My beautiful Naida, why did you leave me? You said you loved me, so why did you leave?


	9. Realizations

**Okay, this chapter needs an author's note, so here it is… I am so happy with the few reviews and fans that I have because of this story. It is one of my first fanfics, and I sometimes get stuck, or don't have time to update, but it's still going fairly well. Anyway, I just want to thank you, again, for actually taking precious time out of your day, to try and keep up with this story. I was so happy to find out how many views this story is receiving, so yeah, YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!**

**Anyway, I hope a few of you catch onto why certain tributes have certain names. Now, enough with the chit-chat, and on with the chapter!**

**Oh yeah, one more thing! I am now using (…) to identify that this chapter is going on into another POV. I hope that works for everyone. If you have questions, ask, or suggestions, tell me. I'm open to PM, and reviews, so go ahead!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games regrettably. That right belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

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After waking up to Jacci's voice, again, I waste no time in jumping in the shower. Today, I use a citrus bodywash, and find shampoo and conditioner similar to the scent for my hair. A thought occurs to me, and I want to laugh a bit at my own goofiness. 'can you drown in a shower?' I really don't want to get out, because being in the water reminds me of home somewhat, but I do.

I finish getting ready, and pin my hair up so that it will stay out of my face. I have training today. Dreadful training. To bad they don't have they don't have a huge swimming pond for me to show off my greatest skill.

I am one of the firsts in the dining room. The only other person in the room is Marley. I acknowledge him, but he ignores me and stares into his bowl of watery oatmeal. Whatever happened yesterday must have been terrible. Whatever it was.

A young Avox boy stands silently beside the table laden with food. I smile at him, but he keeps a frown. I badly want to comfort him, or try and talk to him, but I know that all that will do is make the situation a lot worse. I would certainly get the young Avox in trouble, and after all that he has been through, that wouldn't be fair. I mean, they are already doomed to a life as mute slaves, why try to break them down more?

My plate is soon heaping with more rich, foods that I could never afford at home. Slices of ham, and sausage patties. Strips of fatty bacon. A fried egg, with a hard yolk. Fried potatoes. Pieces of buttery toast.

I chow down, wanting to have enough energy to survive the brutal training sessions. The rest of the District Four company file in halfway through my meal. They all gorge themselves like me, except for Marley, who has barely touched his goop.

After eating her plate, Jacci excuses herself. She doesn't want to talk to us about training, because it tires her out. I wonder if that's it, or if she's disappointed in her tributes this year not being very Career like.

"Stick together in training," Mags muffles as we get down to business. I don't know why, but all of the times that I have heard her talk, her voice sounds mumbled. I hand't minded it until now when it came out almost unintelligible.

"Where should we start?" I ask. Are we suppose to go straight to survival training or the weapons? I mean, weapons are really useful against other tributes, and animal/mutts, but knowing how to start a fire can ultimately help us survive.

"It doesn't matter. You only have a small chance of surviving anyway," Marley spits out bitterly from across the table. He glares at me, not Danny, and I don't know what I did wrong. His eyes are like daggers, and I know that I must have done something horrific to suddenly get this- punishment.

Mags shoots him a look full of disapproval. "What's your strategy? Are you joining One and Two?"

I think about that. Would I join the Careers? I just got an angle, that probably won't mesh well with them. Besides, will they even take me considering my size, and reluctance to even try to harm someone else?

"I think that I'm going to try to get in with the Careers," Danny says excitement in his voice, and I am shocked. Good natured Danny alongside ruthless killers? Not possible. What is he thinking? I shake my head in disapproval of his approach at winning, and to show that I am going to keep out of their way.

"I don't think that I'll be able to get in with them anyway," I say. Mags looks at me sadly. What am I suppose to do, ditch my angle? Even if they did take me, it would only be a matter of time before they killed me in my sleep, if I was lucky.

"Well then," Mags says. "I think you have everything figured out." I frown. I actually wanted to see if Danny would try and be one of my allies in the arena. So much for sticking together in training like Mags said. Guess I work solo, or I can try and find a group all my own, which isn't likely.

We finish our meals in silence, although we were pretty much finished anyway. When I finish my plate, they set a bowl full of rolls on the table. How much do they think we can eat? Regardless of my ever so full stomache, I take one, and nibble on it.

Jacci reenters the room, and tells us to move along. She guides us to the elevator, and we go down to one of the lower floors. The Training Room.

Surprisingly, we are one of the ealiest pairs to arrive. The only other people I see are the District Two tributes, the trainer, Blasius, and some of the Gamemakers in stands surrounding the stations. I am instantly thrown into a deep dark chasim of awe, and fear.

The girl tribute, Jamari sneers at the sight of us, or is she aiming it at just me? A menacing warrior from what I can tell. Her eyes flick to the weapons section, and I flinch. Great already a weakling.

Virgil, (really who comes up with these names?) the boy is gigantic. I mean, through his skin tight shirt, I can see his muscles flex with anticipation. He apparently has the real deal muscles. His strength is not just a bluff.

Danny saunters over to them, and his face is totally unrecognizable. He is no longer looking so nice, but intimidating. I know from the way they are sizing me up, that I am alone in this. Whatever I thought about Danny before is now gone. He is nothing but a person desperate to survive, no matter how he has to play the game. He's probably thinking about ways to take me down right now.

I stand alone, until the other tributes arrive. Compared to the Careers, I am small; but compared to the other tributes, I am, for the most part big. How sad. I knew my district wasn't as poor as the others, but it shocks me to see the other kids without their costumes. They are like twigs. If god hates me, then he despises them. I feel so terrible now about myself and these other kids, as we all circle around Blasius and he explains the rules.

"Now, I know this won't stick with some of you, but I will say it anyway. The arena is just as dangerous as the people in it. At least 10% of you will die from the exposure, hunger, or dehydration; so it is wise to visit the other stations other than the weapons. Learn to make a fire, take the edible plants test, learn to tie a good knot. These things will ultimately save your life. Now, you will not fight with the other tributes, when you use the weapons. There are other trainers around to help if you want to practice with a partner. You are dismissed."

I walk around the Training Room like a lost puppy. Am I suppose to show off my skills, or hide them? What do I do? Mags and Marley were barely any help, so I am lost.

I finally decide to visit the station I am most familiar with, knots. When I feel the familiar texture of the rope in my hands, I think of home. I think of those few days that I tried to add something to the table by skipping lessons to fish. I can feel the sea's mist as it settles on my skin.

I am pulled back to the Games, as the trainer instructs me on a basic-knot snare. I finish successfully, and see that my knots are perfect, compared to the trainer's. The trainer is speechless, and praises me over, and over. His voice is laced with pride, and I know that I made his day. He shows me other traps and snares, and I excel in all of them. Maybe I'll get to use them in the arera.

I head over to the fire building station, where two Bottom Feeder type kids are practicing. Despite my endless efforts, I am still reliant on the matches to coax out a flame. Why did it seem so easy at home? I practice for a few hours, and finally find that I can make a small fire, without the matches. If only I'll have that time in the arena to do it.

I do fairly well in shelter building, and move on to the edible insects station. I can barely stand looking at all of the repulsive, slimy, hairy, and enormous, creatures. I finish the test, and try to keep their appearances in order, but I am starting to gag at the thought of them.

We are called to lunch, and I am secretly grateful. I could use the time to try and keep my thoughts together. Maybe I'm taking the wrong approach, and if that's the case, then I need to correct it, _soon._ I don't have room or the time for mistakes. This is my life on the line we are talking about!

I fill my plate with enriched foods. I need all the vitamins and nutrients I can get before this week is up. I need all of this, or the price will be my life. I sit down at an empty table, and eat alone. Other than the Careers, everyone else does the same as me. It's quite sad really, the few days before your last, and you have to be alone. If only I were brave enough to go up to someone, and try to make and alliance or something.

As I chew, I glance over at Danny and the other Careers. They are laughing obnoxiously, and it makes me sick. They are laughing, not at some joke, but because they know that the rest of us have no chance of winning; and we all know it too. Why would Danny suddenly change his whole personality? Then it hits me, hard. What if I was just blind, and this is his real personality? What if, he only acted nice, because there was no need to behave like this before, and now he got the chance to show himself off? What if he was always a Career? I suddenly feel queasy.

While thinking about the Careers, another thought hits me like a ton of bricks; why didn't anyone volunteer for me or Danny? District four is one of the districts that are thrown into the normal Career crowd, where other kids are dying to get thrown into the action. I think everyone who knows me knows that I am very shy and I hate pain, and seeing others fight, so why is it that this year out of any, I am picked and no one volunteers? Does God really hate me this much? Did I do something wrong?

I really am starting to think that there is no God, and that I should look into atheism now.

My thoughts are quickly gathered after a moment of silent thinking and shock, and I begin to question my angle. (I don't have time for thoughts having to deal with religion right now.)I really can't do anything else though. At home, with Paul, Nana, and the twins, I am not afraid, but in a place unknown to me, I am literally trapped. Almost like a pearl in it's shell. I wonder if my parents knew I would be this way. That in public, I would be a shy loser.

I glance around, and see that one person is staring at me. 'Who is that?' I ask myself, but I already know. Her sad golden eyes bore into me, and I can do nothing but stare right back into them. She looks at me, almost with pity, and I feel useless. This girl even thinks I'm a goner. Finally, the gaze is broken, and the girl continues to eat her lunch in slow, bites.

The meal is over, and I head over to hand to hand combat. The trainer opposite me takes his stance, and directs me on what to do. I come at him with all I have, but I can't pin him. I keep trying, but I am getting exhausted. The other tributes aren't doing so hot either, having their first lessons with weapons like me, except the Careers. Of course they can send spears through dummies hearts from fifty feet away, while all I can do is tie a knot.

I see Danny, and he is laughing, and it's directed at me, and my failed attempts to take down my trainer. His actions are really confusing me, I really thought he was nice. He sees me looking at him, and he smirks. Then, he take his long sword, cuts off the dummies head, and then plunges it into the dummy's chest.

I take a break, and catch my breath. I can tell that I am not that much of a challenge, because the trainer isn't even breaking a sweat. I try and think about what I am doing that is making my attacks so useless.

At the sight of more tributes coming over to the station, I leave the mat. I will try again later, but for now, I'll let some others try their luck. I try to think strategies, as I watch the others try and pin down the trainer, but I can't. It's too distracting.

The first day of training ends, and I immediately go to my room, and plop down in my bed. I need to think about strategies in peace, instead of in a room full of blood lusting teens, and their victims. I go into further detail of my attempts, and almost immediately find what was wrong. I was going straight ahead into an attack, instead of defending myself. The way I was throwing myself at that trainer was completely wrong. Tomorrow, I will try and use some speed, and defend myself, instead of trying to take him down head on. That must be it.

All this thinking, and life changing realizations are starting to hurt my head. Maybe I should get some sleep, take a nap...

…

…

I couldn't sleep last night due to horrible nightmares about the death of Naida. I watched as she was stabbed over, and over, and over again. Her eyes were glazed over, and blood gushed from her body. Eventhough the cannon had boomed, she still spoke to me in that strong, yet broken down voice. "Marley, why? Why didn't you save me? I thought you loved me."

My eyes were rimmed with dark circles, as well as my face sagged. I get up and get ready for the day ahead. I need to help those tributes win, but like all of those other years, I know that on the inside, I don't care if they die or not. I don't care if I die or not.

I walk down the hall, and into the dining room. I am too depressed to eat, but I know that imbecile, Jacci Periwinkle will nag me about it later, in those Capitol accents I hate. I take the coldest, wateriest oatmeal I see, and sit down. I only take a bite, and sigh.

'Life sucks_' _I think to myself, and I hear Naida answer.

'_I'm sorry.' _I want to hear her say something again. I want her to speak to me. But, I don't want her to pity me. Even in death. I want her to look up to me, not glance down. I think nothing else; I just stare at this disgusting glob that fills me bowl.

The girl comes in not too much later. I hate her, I hate her for tricking me, giving me false hope. Making me think that she was my dear love. I hope she dies in the arena. I hope she is _murdered_.

When she sits down, it drives me crazy, but I keep it all locked inside me, and stare at my bowl. She will get her's when she is in the arena. She can be sure she won't receive my help, she _should _suffer. She _deserves _too.

I may be a sour, middle aged man, but what does it matter? Nothing in life matters anymore. My family is gone, my friends dead, Naida killed. And it's all my fault, for not obeying the Capitol. I have no purpose, I have no need to live. I deserve to die just as much as that evil girl that sits across the table does.

Later when our tributes begin to talk about the Training Room, I finally release a bit of my anger. "It doesn't matter. You anly have a small chance of surviving anyway," I throw at her. The girl looks back at me with a sad, pathetic expression, and I strangle her in my mind. 'Get it through your head!' I scream at her in my thoughts. 'Your going to die! Your going to be murdered! Stop trying now!'

Mags, that old lady, like a mom to me looks at me with disapproval. For all I care, she could have killed me, and I wouldn't listen to her. I won't listen to her now, nothing matters.

They continue talking, and leave the room. I don't care what they do. Let them train, throw them into the arena now, just do it all. Just stop the pain, and make sure that I end up dead too.

…

…

It's been hard without Pearlynn these past few days and nights. After I said goodbye to her after the reaping, I ran to our pond, and jumped in the water. I kept myself under for as long as I could, wanting to drown myself, and letting my tears add salt to the freshwater. The only reason I dragged myself out, was because I knew that the Games weren't over yet, and there was still the slightest chance of her coming back, with her heart beating.

Why didn't I tell her how I felt about her years ago? Months ago? Why did I tell her only a few days ago? Now I'll probably never see her again, and I'll be left wondering how everything would have played out on a real date, at a real dance, everything.

Everyday, I sneak out to our pond, and lay on the beach. I don't want to swim without her, so I will wait. I will wait for my best friend to come back, then I will swim again.

The first day that I was alone, yesterday in fact, I skipped class. I didn't want to go and sit through lectures without passing notes with a special somebody. Halfway through the morning, my mother finally convinced me to go to school until the Games really started, then she would let me skip. I agreed.

When I arrived home, I finished my homework, and was eating dinner with my family when the parade started. I stared at the screen, and saw a pinkish, purple light in the background, and there she was. Pearlynn was breathe taking, and my eyes popped out of my head. My Pearlynn.

Her face was bright, and yup, shy (silly girl). Her body was covered in a fitted bodice, and then this huge bubbly skirt that made her look like an elegant jelly fish. She even had tentacles falling around her bare, tanned legs. What amazed me the most though, is how on her dress, glowing purple lines ran up and down. It really illuminated her, and that other kid. I look at her dark hair, in waves matching the tentacles, and see a headband gracing her head that looks like it is made of the same material as the dress.

I watched her every move, and laughed when a young man went hysterical calling her name. She blushed deeply, and continued to wave and smile hesitantly. I was looking her up and down when I noticed that Danny's hand lay ontop of her's on the chariot rail. From the way that Pearlynn glanced at her hand, she didn't like it. I wanted Danny to stop it, and step away from her, but I can't really make them do anything through a T.V., screen.

When Pearlynn was finally taken out of view, and the screen turned black, I willed the T.V., to turn on once more, and play the scene again; but it didn't. That didn't matter though, I was able to see my best friend again, and I loved every second of it.


	10. Defense

**Author's Note: Hey everyone that is reading this! I want to thank you for your support in this story, and in me. Like I said last chapter, YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!**

** Anyway, (I use that word a lot) I really wanted to thank two special people that are constantly there to read, review, and criticize this story. Elli1i01, thank you for reacting exactly how I want you readers too on every chapter. It makes me feel so great to know that people can understand how I want them to react through the chapters. And 13ASB, you are amazing at getting the inner workings of the chapters. I really appreciate you criticizing me so much because you make me a better writer in doing so. So, THANK YOU BOTH VERY MUCH!**

** Anyway, (I know another one) let's get on with the chapter. **

** OH!, and in the reviews please tell me if you like the cover, and Pearlynn's appearance. Okay, now on with the chapter!**

**I am SO sorry! I accidentally uploaded chapter nine twice, so I, apologize! Anyway, here is the real chapter 10!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. That right belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

* * *

I continue to crochet the same sweater that I have been working on for a week now. I would be finished by now, but I don't want to finish. I unravel the yarn, and redo the sweater's torso again and again.

"Mom," my little, grown up boy asks. I barely lift my head from my work. "Are you alright?" I lower my head. No, I am not alright. My granddaughter. My only granddaughter…

"No," I finally respond. My grandsons look to me. I can only give a wavering smile. I am not alright. They already know this though. I just got to see Lyle again, and now he is gone with Pearlynn.

I say nothing more, as I crochet. I will not cry; I will stay stong for my granddaughter, and Lyle.

…

...

"Paul, get to school," my mother says gently, shaking me. Every night, including last night I sit at the table and look to see if Pearlynn's image will light up the screen. In doing this I must have fallen asleep. I raise my head, and I can feel creases on my cheek from the cold hard edge of the table.

I go to the closet and pick out fresh clothes. Then I get them on in the dark. I don't have a room to change in, even though I live in the wealthier Bottom Feeder Houses. My parents share a room, and my sisters share the other. I usually sleep on the small couch that we own. I feel sorry for Pearlynn, she has a one bedroom house, so her parents take the room, and the rest are left to fend for themselves on matresses in the living room. It must be terribly crowded.

I grab my books and bag. My sisters are already tugging on my arm. I call goodbyes to my mother, and rush out the door to school. On the way over, I pick up Pearlynn's brothers. They look tired, but I can do nothing about that now. I wonder if they were dreaming about their sister like I was.

I drop off my sisters and her brothers, then hurry to take my place. I get there just in time to hear my name being called.

"Here!" I shout, and set my things down at my desk. Lessons start, and I am totally bored. No notes to pass. I see that Mr. Palmer my, as well as Pearlynn's favorite teacher is here today instead of the lady substitute. I wonder why he was gone the day of the reaping, the day of the parade, and yesterday. Maybe family troubles?

With nothing to do, I start drowning in my next few days are going to be tough. Eventhough I know that Pearlynn is safe for now, I cannot help but wish that I could see her once more. For the next few days, she will be training, but, selfish of me to say, I wish that the Games would start so that I may see her face again. I won't have to wait long though, today is her second day of training. Tomorrow will be the score showing, and then the next day the interviews.

I am snapped out of my thoughts as Mr. Palmer speaks to me. He isn't just calling me for a question, he is asking to talk to me in the hall. I look around and see that everyone else is staring at me. I walk out of the room, and into the hall. Once we reach it, the man's calm demeanor slips into a frown. He talks in a slow manner, evaluating his word choice.

"I am so sorry son about your friend. Pearlynn was a great student. I am so sorry." I only stare at him in disbelief. He is acting like Pearlynn is dead already. She is not, she has a chance still. She still has a chance.

"She still has a chance," I say, my voice cracking. He looks at me with sadness. He must know that the chance isn't very good; because he puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"I am so sorry," he says, and I let a few tears escape.

…

…

"Paul!" I scream. "Paul!" Why isn't he answering me? He was just here on the beach a second ago. Where is he? "Paul!" I turn around, and see golden eyes staring at me, from a blanket of darkness. I shift my gaze when I hear a sound. The whiz of a knife catches me off guard, and I can only widen my eyes, as it lodges into my heart.

My skin is sweaty as I wake up from the dream. I can feel someone caressing my head, and I think of Paul, when he played with my hair in the sunshine, on the beach.

"Paul," I sigh. I know that he will keep me safe, but when he answers his voice is not the same.

"Pearlynn, wake up. It's me, Danny." I sit up, and find his face in the dim light. What is he doing here? I thought that he abandoned me for the muderers.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. He looks at me confused.

"You had a nightmare, and your door was open, so I just came in," he says. I am so confused now. Is he a Career or is he a nice guy? Why does he keep switching between the two?

"What are you doing here?" I ask again. "I thought you were a Career now." his face morphs again, into the face of a Career, not a person.

"Your right. Why should I try and comfort someone like you? Your going to die anyway," he gets up off my bed, and saunters to the door. I have tears in my eyes now due to the nightmare, my confusion, and to how everything is just happening too fast and he takes notice. "Go ahead, cry. Won't do you much good when we have you cornered in the arena. Better learn that now, or your death won't be so pretty." He exits my room, and slams the door shut. How could he be so cruel? I thought he was nice.

I start to cry, and bury my head in my hands. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want my parents, I want the twins, I want Nana, I want Paul. God!, I _need _Paul. What is happening? One moment Danny's waking me up, the next he's telling me that I'm going to die; What on Earth is going on?

I weep until the tears cannot come back. I wipe my eyes with my arm, and get out of the overly warm sheets. I slide out of bed and start walking. I don't care what time it is, I can't sleep anymore. I step into my bathroom, and strip off my pajamas. I press random buttons on the control panel, and step in the shower. The feeling of the water soothes me and I soon get to thinking about training again.

Today, I will try and use speed when I go to hand to hand combat. As long as I stay light on my feet, I may be able to catch the trainer off guard, and pin him. But then again, I didn't really see how fast the trainer was to begin with, so I might just fail again. I'm going to have to take the chance.

I scrape off the thick lather that smells sweet like fresh water, and just stand under the jets. I wish that they had a pool. That would be fantastic.

When I finally get out of the shower, my fingers and toes are pruny, and the air in the bathroom is muggy. Air comes to dry me off, and in seconds my skin is back to the satiny smooth texture. I dress in my training uniform, that was laid out for me on my bed. It's not time for breakfast yet, but my stomache growls. I order a basket of rolls, and a cup of coffee with sugar and cream.

When an avox girl brings it to me, I silently thank her, and begin to eat the rolls. The girl hasn't left yet though. She gives a dipping motion with her hand. I pick up a roll, and dunk it into the coffee. I take a small bite, and think it is great. I thank her again, and she finally leaves.

Soon enough, Jacci is knocking on my door telling me to get up, and join them for breakfast. I quickly pin half of my hair up, and leave the other half down, with my token. I leave my room, and walk down the hall to the dining room.

Today, I do not say anything to Marley. I can do nothing to win his favor now if he is not going to take it. A shame really, he seems so interesting. I load my plate like the day before. When an attendant comes though, I ask for more coffee and rolls. That was really good.

I eat, and after a while, people show up. I am actually surprised to see Lilias though. She never came to eat with us before. Onvin is there too, but I pay no attention to him. I do not dare look at Danny. I am afraid that I will start to cry, or I will go hostile, which I'm not suited for. I stare at my rolls, and continue to dunk them in the drink full of caffeine and sugar.

We finish the meal, and leave. I silently endure the elevator ride down with Danny, and sigh in relief when it is over. When we reach the Training Room, I head over to hand to hand combat. A line already started to form, so I have to wait for everyone else. With his newfound attitude, Danny joins the Careers at the knife range. Aventrine, the girl from One takes her stance, and aims. In her hand are not throwing knives, but ninja stars. I barely process this fact before she flicks her wrist, and sends them hurtling through the air, and towards the target. Right on the bull's eye.

I am nudged by the district 3 boy, to go take my turn. I quickly try to form a plan to take down the man opposite me. I don't have much time though, because the lesson soon begins.

My trainer comes forward, in a somewhat slow manner. I easily dodge him, and he finally sees what I'm doing. He speeds up his pace, so I speed up mine. He comes forward to meet me, and I fake him out, by running straight to him, then bouncing to the side of him instead. He turns the heat up more, and runs swiftly towards my body. I am on the edge of the mat, so either I step off, or I try and get around him. He leaves me just a bit of room, and I finally make my decision. I run at him, with all the speed I can; he looks stunned. Must think that I'm going to run into him or something. His legs are opened the slightest bit, so I take one last stride, then slide on my knees through his legs. I lean back my upper body, so that I may be able to get through effectively. Once I'm through, I turn around, wrap my arm around his neck, and kick his legs from under him so that he's on his knees. I stay that way, until he makes me let him up. I finally did it.

I glance around and see that Danny and some of the Careers are staring at me. Almost everyone is. I blush against my will, and step off the mat. My cheeks are flushed, and my throat is dry. I walk across the room, and get a drink of water. When I finally look up again, none of the other tributes are looking at me, but I feel one pair of eyes still fixed on my back. I turn around, and find that I have caught the Head Gamemaker, Henlis Starke's attention. His black beady eyes watch me carefully as I turn back around and head to camouflage.

With the berry juice, clay, and leaves, I make a very _unsuccessful _forest floor, on my arm. It doesn't look like a forest floor, it looks like a pile of garbage. At least I can disguise myself in a slag heap.

The trainer keeps trying to help me get the shade of the ground right, and I make a little progress but not much. Someone comes up beside me, and I can feel their gaze. I am starting to get uncomfortable.

"Look," Danny starts, "the other Careers have been asking about you. They want to know if you would like to join the group. They say the more the merrier." I continue swirling around the wet leaves, and berry 'guts'.

"Why would they make that decision?" I ask in a soft voice, to mask my shock. I look up at him, and his face is stony.

"Look, do you want to join or not?" I do not react right away. I place some dark clay on my arm, and mold it between the leaves. It actually looks okay. Mediocre at best. "Well?"

I gather my courage, and reply with the most force I can manage. "No." Danny breathes deeply, and turns away to join his group again. We are called to lunch. I sit alone. I eat.

After lunch, I move to the throwing knife section once the Careers have moved on to archery. I crown my fingers with the cold blades, and aim at the target. In seconds, I send the knives flying. I gasp as they all hit the target, but sigh, when I see that they are nowhere near the bull's eye. Throwing knives definitely won't save me in the Games. I practice along with the tributes of 8, but find that they are better with them than me. How does making textiles help you throw knives?

At the sword section, I try to use a gladius, but the District 10 kids are dominating the mat with their kukris. If I were to face one of them in the arena, I'm as good as dead.

The day's training mixes into the next day's and I am now anxious because of my private session. Today, after training, they will call us individually into the room full of Gamemakers and see how well our training has equipped us with the strategy for survival.

Through these three days of training, I have learned quite a few things; I am terrible in throwing knives, spear throwing, sword training, and edible insect tests. I am mediocre in archery, wrestling, and camouflage. I excel in trying knots, making fires, building canopies, hand to hand combat (with speed), and edible plants. So, I don't have much to show the Gamemakers. I'll be lucky if I score a five. With so few things that I am well at, I am going to have to go with hand to hand combat for my session.

We are seated in a line outside the Training Room, and wait. One by one, tributes disappear into the room and never come out. When Danny is finally called, my blood starts pumping, and I start breaking into a cold sweat. Finally my name is called,

"Pearlynn Fisher, District Four." I walk into the Training Room, before any of the other tributes can see how shaky I am. When I get in, I see the Gamemakers are eating and drinking, but are watching my every move. Am I suppose to introduce myself? I don't want to make a fool out of myself, so I head over to the knives.

…

…

The girl doesn't say anything today at breakfast. She didn't yesterday either. She finally gets the point, I hate her. The District Four team including the stylists, eat and head off in their own directions. Today is the last day of training, then I can sit back, and watch my tributes die. I will relish the girl's death. I will watch it soberly, so I may enjoy.

Hours pass, and I know that our tributes will just barely be whisked into the Training Room for their sessions with the Gamemakers. I have nothing else to do, Mags is off somewhere, so I just sit at the dining room table thinking of the possibilities of the arena's design. Maybe a desert? A mountainside? A series of sheets of ice? A forgotten city?

This chair is getting uncomfortable. I pace around for a while, imagining the girl bleeding to death in every environment. Either way she will pay.

After another long period of time, I sit on the couch. I have a bottle of whisky next to me, on a crystal table, as well as a glass. I pour myself some of the alcohol, and chug it down. High heels click on the floor, and I look up to see our escort, Jacci whatever come in with that stupid pink coral headdress. She sits down in a chair opposite me, and I pour myself another glass of the drink. I take gulps, and it burns all the way down my throat to my stomache. Just what I need.

"Our tributes are having their private training sessions right now," Jacci tells me through putting a tenth coat of lipstick over her misshaped lips. I grunt to show that I am listening. She pats makeup on her blue skin, and I want to tell her that she is not going to look any better. She is hideous. "I bet that they are doing quite well, well the boy will. The girl…"

"The girl is going to die anyway," I interrupt her. "There is nothing we can do for her. Probably score a three." Jacci huffs, and snaps her makeup compact shut.

"Well I know that. She has barely listened to a word we have told her. She said that she made up her own angle already, so we couldn't help her there. She wouldn't even tell us what it was, stupid girl. I just hope that her death is painless, when the time comes." Listening to her comment, I suddenly feel like I need to defend the girl, from this Capitol woman.

"She still has a chance. Don't get caught up in yourself Perry-winky," I say. I have no idea why I want to defend the girl so badly. I feel like only I can hate her, not this imbecile.

"Periwinkle. Jacci Periwinkle," she scoffs at me. She crosses her seaweed tattoed arms. "And you just said that she is going to die too."

"But she still has a chance, you witch," I spit out. How can she say this about such a sweet child?

"All I am saying is that I have heard from her trainers, and the only offensive thing that she excelled at was hand to hand combat. Other than that, she is a disgrace to _our _district_." _I am taken aback. I set down my glass, and rise to my feet.

"_Our_ district? You are nothing but a snobby Capitol wench," I say. She knows nothing about living in a District. She bulges her eyes, just like goldfishes. Is that why she had those stones placed in her skin?

"Excuse me, Marley, but you have no respect for the heart of Panem, or me! You know nothing about the stresses of being an escort." She is on her feet too.

"But I have it worse as a mentor! Every year, I watch at least one of my 'students' die. Believe me I don't care about the tributes, but it's terrible having to see their lives be snuffed out by their _allies _(Districts One and Two, usually)_."_

_ "_Then why do you care about the girl?" she asks. "You just said you didn't care!"

"I don't!" I argue. "I don't care if she dies!"

"Then why do you keep saying that she has a chance? You are defending her! Do you really think she can win?" My nerves are really starting to get away from me. I have to defend the girl.

"I bet she can last longer than that pretty boy of yours! She can win this, I tell you! She _is _going to win!" I scream at her with a deadly seriousness etched in my words.

"You are completely contradicting yourself Marley. If you say something, at least mean it," she huffs, and walks out of the living room, and to her quarters. I am filled with rage. Of course I hate the girl, I have a reason too. Pearl-whatever, I'm not good with names, pretended to be my love; but she has been nothing but kind to these disgusting people, so they have nothing to complain about. I need to prove my point; she has a chance. I need to prove these Capitol types wrong. I need to take Jacci's words into account, 'If you say something, at least mean it.'

I am going to help her win.

…

…

The final bell of the day rings, and I rush to gather up all of the kids. I start for my sisters first. The littlest one, Oceanna waits patiently by her classroom door to meet me. My middle sister, Clara jumps up and down when she sees me. My oldest little sister, that is only a year older than the middle one, Marisol rushes to meet me. Sherman and Herman share the same class as her, so they are waiting with her. Once I double check, tomake sure all of them are with me, I head out.

My house is blocks ahead of my best friends, so I drop off my sisters. The twins wait outside, as I drop off my bag and books. I am about to leave, when Marisol calls me back.

She cups her hand around my ear, and whispers into it. "Paul, can you ask Sherman is he likes me, for me? Please?" I laugh at her request.

"Why?" I ask her. She shrugs.

"He's cute." I laugh again, and Clara comes up to me,and asks me the same thing for Herman.

"Your only ten!" I tell her. She shrugs her shoulders too.

"So. Love doesn't tell age." I chuckle and walk out the door. My eleven and ten year old sisters have crushes. I am so glad that my littlest sister is only eight, and that Pearlynn only has two brothers.

I escort the little boys all the way home. I am welcomed inside, and I see that the usual merriment of the house is gone. That sweet old lady, Nana just sits in her chair and crochets a sweater that looks oddly familiar. Her mother is washing clothes in a tub, and her father isn't home yet. Probably still at work.

I leave a polite fairwell to the grief-stricken family and walk home slowly. I stand on the porch for a few minutes when I reach home, and see that the sun is slowly making it's way down below the horizon. It's going to be beautiful tonight.

I eat dinner with my family, and ask permission to go to the square today. I want to watch the review of the Training scores there instead of staying at my house, because Mr. Palmer asked me to meet him there tonight for them. He wants to support me, I guess.

I finish early, and slip out of the house, and take my time going to the town square. People are already starting to gather around the huge screen that will display the tributes scores. I spy Mr. Palmer alone, and walk over. He nods to me, and places a hand on my shoulder. I brace myself as the program begins.

Caesar Flickerman is going on about how the tributes have been training brutally these past three days. Finally they show District One. Both the girl, Aventrine, and the boy Cade score nines. Distict Two's girl Jamari scores a ten, and Virgil scores an eight. District three doesn't do so well with low fours.

Danny's face lights up the screen, and under his face is an eight. People around the square cheer, and chant Danny's name, but I don't care what he has, I want to know what _my _girl got.

After Caesar and rambles on a bit about how well Danny did, the screen finally changes. Pearlynn's face pops up, and I expect the worse; so does Mr. Palmer. His grip gets tighter on my arm, and then her score pops up, and I freak out. Pearlynn, _my _Pearlynn scored a ten! Ten!

People around the square cheer even more. A few people pat me on the back, and say congratulations. Mr. Palmer's face breaks into a smile, and I am grinning like crazy. Oh my God! I just can't wrap my head around it. I don't even bother listening to the other scores, I can only think about her.

What did you do Pearlynn? What did you do?

…

…

We sit around the T.V., and watch as the scores appear one by one. I am terrified when the other Careers score eights to tens. I glance around, and see that Danny is grinning, like a Career; like the Career he is. Jacci Periwinkle squeals when Danny scores an eight, and I see Marley curse. What's wrong with him? I mean, I thought an eight was a great score. Mags pats Danny's shoulder saying he did great. Onvin beams, and Lilias stays firm.

"What did you do?" Jacci asks excited.

"Just some sword swinging." He laughs, and I freak out. If Danny's sword swinging only got him an eight, than what will I get?

My face pops up on the screen, and my blood goes cold, oh no. I am suddenly put into shock, when I see the number ten under my face. Ten?

"Yes!" Marley shouts, and shoots out of his seat. "Yes!" I am a bit confused, maybe he never hated me, but then why did he glare at me? Mags gives me a smile, and Lilias pulls me into a hug. I see Jacci Periwinkle has her mouth wide open, and her eyes popping out of her head. Danny looks at the screen, with a stony expression, but I don't care. I am shocked, and mortified.

"What did _you_ do?" Jacci asks, and every eye is on me. I don't answer though. I just stare at the screen.

"I-I… I have to go," I say and rush out of the room. I run down the hall, into my room, and into the bathroom. Once I get in there, I throw-up my dinner into the porcelain toilet. I feel hands holding up my hair, and I assume that the motherly Mags is doing it for me. I flush the vile down, and wipe my mouth. I turn to the sink and rinse it out with water to get the taste out. When I turn around, it is not Mags who is standing there, but Marley.

"Thank you," I say, and dry my face with a towel. He shrugs.

"Can't have my pretty little tribute puking on her hair can we?" he says. He leads me out of the bathroom and onto my bed. We sit on the edge, and he finally speaks.

"Look, kid, I want you to win this thing. That stupid Capitol woman doesn't think you can, and I want to prove her wrong. Now I know I haven't been much help so far, but this is me making up for it. You want my help or not?"

I am a bit stunned, but I know that in the arena, I am going to need help, so I nod and say, "Yes." The man grins.

"Let's talk strategy." He closes and locks the door, and we get down to business.


	11. Hope vs Hopelessness

**Author's Note: Alright, let's get down to business; Thank you for all of your kind reviews. They really do make my day, :D! I really want to thank all of you who read for sticking by this story, it is one of my firsts that actually came out how I wanted it, so yeah, :). I LOVE YOU GUYS, LIKE CRAZY! Anyway, let's get on with the chapter! And I am so, so, so, sorry that I have not updated in a while. I was just really busy this week, so I never got around to it. This is a short chapter, but I _swear_ that I will make up for it on the next chapter. I may be able to update it again, tomorrow, just depends, so enjoy!**

**I am very sorry if some of these POVs are a bit confusing. Some POVs are in a different time period. Alas, Paul's POV this chapter, is right after he gets home from the town square after the training scores were released, while Pearlynn and Nana's POVs are in present time. Okay, enough of the chit-chat!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _The Hunger Games._**

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"Paul?" I ask him. He turns his head the slightest, and looks at me. The sunshine is lighting up his light brown hair. I wonder why he, a kid from the Bottom Feeders has light hair, if the rest of us have dark. It's a mystery.

"Yes?"

"Do you think that the time we spend together is alright? I mean, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea or anything. We are always together." He cocks his head a bit.

"Who would get an idea like that?"

"Lucy Crenshaw." He rolled his eyes.

"Please, she's just overreacting. Probably because she doesn't have any guy friends." I laugh, and he smiles at me.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Why? What would be so bad about them thinking that?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"What would be so bad about them thinking that, we… you know," he said. He's looking right at me, and I look away. A blush creeps up on my cheeks, and I know that I Paul will want an answer.

"Uh… it wouldn't be so bad," I say. He looks at me with a grin, and I know what he is going to ask before he even opens his mouth. I get up, and he starts his question.

"Why _wouldn't_ it be so bad?" he asks, but I don't answer him, and I don't intend too any time soon. "Pearlynn?" I am running now, I reach the edge of the beach, walk into the shallows, and then dive into the deep water. I swim, and don't come up long enough to hear him repeat the question. I only concentrate on my form as I dive, and turn somersaults in the water. Soon enough, Paul is with me, and I know that he won't demand an answer.

I want to stay in that moment forever, but sadly, I know that I can't. I fall out of the dream, get out of bed, and take a long hot shower. I smell like strawberries, and I really like it. Tomorrow, before the Games, I will use that scent. It is so, sweet. I go to my room, and pull on a black skirt that only comes down to the bottom of my thighs. I pair it with a simple silver halter, and black shoes that were made custom fit for me.

I walk down to the dining room, and see Marley is already at the table. Today he is actually eating, and he looks way happier than before. I wonder what made him want to help me.

Last night, we talked for hours about strategy. He made me tell him everything about me; my family, friends, Paul. With some reluctance, I even described how Danny was acting differently than at home. I even explained how I felt about the Capitol, its people, and the Hunger Games. After a full background check, we moved on to my angle and such. I needed to tell him all about my private session, and he found it great.

"You can do things like that?" he asked me with great enthusiasm. I shrugged, and thought about my session alone with the Gamemakers. What I did was never planned, and yet, I excelled in it. I didn't know how to do it before, and even now, I don't really remember how I did it. I just remember how I thought of swimming for a few seconds, and I was full of energy, just like that.

"Well, I had never tried it before, so it came as a shock to me once I did it. I thought since it was my first time actually doing it, that I would get a terrible score. Guess I'm a natural," I told him. He grinned.

"Guess so. But you need to stop underestimating your abilities," he told me. I looked down a bit, because it is quite true. Through this whole thing, I have second guessed myself at least a million times. No wonder the District Four team likes Danny more, he radiates beams of confidence. You can see it in the way that he carries himself, and the way he performs.

"It's hard to do, when I never estimated my abilities like this before. I am not strong like many of the people at home, nor am I big. I am one of the top students in my year, but the history of Panem doesn't matter in the Hunger Games," I retort. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Smarts are sometimes better than physical attributes, if you know how to play your cards," he said. The way that he said it, is so- intriguing. I instantly start to wonder if that is how he won his games, close to 18 years ago.

I am pulled back into the present, and start to load up on breakfast. In the few days I have been here, I have eaten as much as I can to prepare myself for starvation. Jacci is sitting, and tsking away, and I am a bit surprised to see her up and criticizing Marley and me so early. I let her though, because I can't do anything else to stop her. I mean, she is my escort wheather I like it or not. I would be too polite to attempt shutting her up anyway.

"Pearl, must you really eat so much, I mean, your not going to starve," she tuts at me. I stay silent through her rant, but when she is finished, against my full stomache, I cram down more food. Danny shows up, along with Mags, but the stylists don't. They must be working. I pop a few blue-violet grapes into my mouth, as Mags begins.

"Interviews," Mags mumbles to us, "are today. Make sure to make good impressions." I listen to her, even though from what I can tell, she has been more of a mentor to Danny, than to me. I think everyone has been leaning towards Danny's victory. I am just a girl, not a worthy tribute. Just a girl oblivious to the horrors, and skills that I will need to survive, because I am either too innocent to see them, or in any matter, acknowledge them. If I were a mentor, I might lean to Danny's survival too. It would be much easier. That is why I was so shocked to have Marley suddenly step in, as my aid. His decision really was flabbergasting.

"Tributes," Jacci says, emphasizing her Capitol accent with a hiss on the letter 's'. "We are counting on you to be well put together tonight when you are interviewed by Caesar. It may ultimately mean your survival. Now, I will take one of you to train you on how to behave in the eye of the public. The other will go with Marley and Mags to perfect your angles. Any questions?" Danny raises his hand slightly.

"Who are you starting with?" he asks. I see her eyes veer towards me. I look down, and blush for I don't know what. I mentally slap myself for it.

"Pearl here," she says. "Surely I can improve her dreadful posture. And she must learn to walk in heels for the audience, not these ballerina slippers." The way she says these things about me, makes it sound like I am completely, and utterly grotesque. I look down in shame, she is right in a way. I am nothing special, but at the same moment, fire burns within me. What right has she, this walking talking, sea monster?

I am escorted away after Jacci finishes her meal. I really want more grapes, but she tells me that I would become fat if I did, and pulls me after her down the hall, before I could get more anyway. In her quarters, she sits me down, and hands me a dress. I change into it, and hike it up a bit. She slaps my hands, and tells me to never show my ankles.

"Really," she says, "every year I have to explain this. Have you no dignity?" I assume from this statement that many girl tributes, have shown their ankles like me, to her annoyance. Good, maybe she will become humbler or something. Look at me, shy outside, and making rude comments in my head, because I'm afraid to speak up, just… great.

Jacci makes me try on high-heels taller than her's. I don't even know how I survived in heels on the chariot ride. They weren't this tall, were they? No, definitely not. These shoes are like skyscrapers. I take little steps in them, but no, Jacci wants me running in them. I can't do that though, I'll fall! I hike my dress up to my thighs, because I am scared I will trip on the fabric. Jacci smacks my hands, and I let the skirt go. I barely take two steps, and I fall on my face. Fantastic. She huffs, and moves on with the lesson.

Jacci also tries to improve my posture, just like she said she would. I really do have good posture, but good, isn't good enough for her. I sit straight, and try to keep my chin high, but then she taps me on the head or shoulder, and tells me to adjust something. I am completely stiff at the end of the session.

"Go, have lunch Pearl," she says waving me out. "We are done. Let Danny in." 'Pearlynn' I think to myself. She grabs her head, like she has a headache, and I shut the door, Okay then, I will go eat, then get Danny; and I do just that.

Danny is just finishing his lunch/lesson with Marley and Mags. He walks out of the room, and walks right toward me. I hear an argument from behind the closed door that Danny just emerged.

"Marlin, is ticked off," he says, "so don't mess around." What is up with this guy? I am really getting tired of his switched personalities, but I reply as politely as I can.

"Jacci has a headache, so be _perfect," _I say. The word perfect is like venom on my tongue as I say it. He raises the corners of his mouth into a good natured smile.

"Already am." He walks off, to Jacci's quarters, and leaves me standing there. What is he playing at? Is this all part of his angle? I am still contemplating the situation, when I walk through to the room. Marley and Mags are sitting at either end of the couch, and Marley looks pretty furious. Mags looks , simply, like- Mags.

"Ready?" I ask them. Marley mutters something under his breath, but nods none the less. Mags, the motherly Mags, just sits there, waiting for someone to start. Does she even really care if I live or not? I guess not, because a moment later, she walks out of the room.

"Okay, Mags is more for the boy than for you," Marley says. I knew this all along of course, but it still doesn't feel good hearing it. "She doesn't think that you will go very far. So, me and you are going to be the only ones in on this scheme, okay? It may be better this way anyway, we won't have to explain everything again." I nod in mutual agreement, but on the inside, I can't help but feel a little hurt. My mentor that has been like a mother to all the tributes before me doesn't even think I'll live. "I trust that your angle is ready for tonight right?" Marley asks me. I nod.

"Yeah. Either it will work or fail, but for it to work, I need to have him ask the right questions. He needs to ask questions that matter," I say thinking things through. Marley nods, and fills a glass full of a maroon colored drink. "Last night you said you would stay sober," I say. He nods again.

"This is grape-juice Pearly. Don't get caught up in yourself. I keep my promises." I blush.

"My name is Pearlynn," I say. He shrugs it off.

"I'll call you Pearly. I'm not good with names," he says taking a sip of his juice. "So deal with it." I blush again, and look away. The sound of his voice brings my gaze back. "This is going to work, your already off to a great start." He motions to my flushed face. I blush more, but I know that his words are true. This will work.

…

…

I sit in my rocking chair, crocheting the same sweater. I know that I have to finish it, so I will no longer unravel it. It's not like I can stay here mourning over my baby, when I could be contributing to the income of my son, and his wife. I will finish this sweater, if it is the last thing I do.

The boy that Pearlynn's likes, that Paul, comes over everyday. He takes the little boys to school, and drops them off. I wonder if he does it to be nice, or if Pearlynn asked him too. Now I can hear him at the door.

The twins rush in, and plant kisses on my cheek. Paul comes inside, and as always, says hello.

"Hello," I say.

"She did good last night," he says. And I nod. He turns back around, and starts to walk, but stops. The boy glances back, and hesitates, as if deciding if he should leave or not. In the end, he does leave. I don't think he can stand being here without his best friend by his side. He is definitely a keeper.

Last night, as I watched my grandbaby get a ten on T.V., I almost cried. Oh I was, and am so proud of her. I can't wait to tell her when she gets back. Either way I will get to tell her. I can feel it in my bones, that I am getting older, and that my time will come soon. If she doesn't make it back, I will tell her, as Lyle, her, and I reunite; but I have a good feeling, that I will get to see her again, not in a pine box, in District Four. I hope my instinct proves trustworthy.

"Nana, tonight are the interviews, with that wierd colored man," says Sherman. I chuckle.

"Caesar Flickerman, Nana," joins in Herman. These twins are funny. They can make me laugh in times like these.

"I bet Pearlynn will do great," I tell them. They both nod, and talk animatedly about what color they think his hair will be this year. I laugh, as they talk, and continue to crochet. This sweater is almost done.

…

…

Oceana was waiting for me to get back from the square. Her wide blue eyes, contrast to mine, wouldn't come off of my bright face. I looked at her for a long moment, and we just stayed like that. This little eight year old, understands me so well.

"Paul, she is going to win. I know it," she says. I smile, and ruffle her hair.

"I know," I say, because it is the truth. I always had my faith in her, even when it dimmed a bit after the calm demeanor of Mr. Palmer had faded. It was still there, but it had shrunk. If he was concerned, then it obviously wasn't good; but now, my spirits have been renewed. My faith in her has only multiplied. She is strong, she can get through this.

I lay on my bed, the couch, and think back to the day of the reaping. When they called her name, I almost cried. I saw the panicked look on her face, and I knew that I couldn't freak out. I needed to stay strong for her. I let her mount the steps, and I waited for someone to volunteer. To my horror, no one did, and I didn't understand. I was ready to volunteer myself to protect her, but when the time came, I couldn't do it. I found out later why. Because I believed, and continue to believe that she can make it back. And she will, she has to.


	12. Without a Hitch

**Author's Note: Wow, I am so happy with this story! I know that it is not the best, and that most people like to read fan-fics about Katniss, Peeta, and Gale, but for an OC, I think I am doing alright. Anyway, this story may only have 14 reviews so far, but on the stats, I have heart attacks. I just can't believe how many of you like to keep up with the story in a whole. Wow, just wow.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter, and enough with my rambling.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the _Hunger Games, _Suzanne Collins is the genius that came up with the whole thing. :D**

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Tonight, all of Panem will get to watch as I sit with Caesar Flickerman in a comfortably plush chair, and talk. Tonight will be the ultimate challenge. I may just be stabbing myself in the back tonight with one faulty word. How beautifully strict and rigid these things leading up to the Games are.

My makeup is done lightly, and very beautifully too. It brings out my greatest trait, my eyes. My skin is a flawless canvas in which my sea-green eyes from my parents popped out at you, catching your eye with a beautiful, and distilled innocence. They are rimmed with a dark liner, and my eyelashes are long and full. My eyes reflect the light, so that they stand out from the darkness. My lips are lightly colored, and plump. If you could tear away your sight from my face, you might finally realize what I was wearing.

My body is covered in a green, fitted, ridescent fabric, that falls all the way to the floor. (I will have to worry about showing my ankles after all). The top is squared, but then the sleeves fall into a gathered style, that reminds me of the sea gods and goddesses that my grandfather used to talk about. Even the slightest movement causes a ripple of light to bounce off the gown. It is paired with heels, that are thankfully shorter than Jacci's, and that are manageable enough, that I know I won't fall on my face. I absolutely love it, and I tell Lilias just so.

"Thank you," she says. I notice that today her makeup is the same as always, but she is wearing her hair in a very unusual hairdo. I don't know how she could have done it to tell the truth. "I was thinking that you would. And I thought you could wear this beautiful pin with it." She holds up my token, and then fastens it into my dark hair that is pulled up in a complicated, yet extravagant up-do. She smiles, and I grin back. I hope Paul sees it tonight. I hope he knows I miss him.

My prep team 'oohs' and 'ahhs' and I am happy to find that Iren doesn't approach me any more than the ladies do. They all compliment me, especially on how well I fit in the dress. Apparently, I could probably pull the 'sexy' angle off too. I blush at that, and wish I could hide myself. I have seen that I do have curves, but I never thought much of them. Many girls had them, and others didn't. I thought of it only as nature, not beauty... until now.

I am directed backstage, to were the other tributes are lined up, ready to start the interviews. Danny is behind me, and he looks sharp. Eventhough Danny isn't my ally, I hope that his angle comes off without a hitch, just not in a way that would destroy me, eventhough that is what it will probably do.

Danny nudges my shoulder, and I glance back at him. My nerves are high, but his are seemingly calm. He winks at me, and says, "Good luck." I repeat the same to him, and we are taken onstage. We are lead in a line to our twenty four seats, then sit silently as the crowd goes nuts.

A sea full of faces, and yet I go searching for one is particular. I find it immediately, and smile when I see that Marley is looking straight at me too. 'This will work,' I repeat. 'This will work.' He fixes his gaze to Caesar as the program begins, and I do too.

This year, Caesar's hair, eyelids, and lips are stained the color of my grapes from earlier. I hate to say it about such a funny, and (nice?) Capitol man, but he is a freakshow. I wonder where the people of the Capitol get fashion tips. Wherever they're from, they suck.

I delve into my thoughts as Aventrine from District One takes her spot across from Caesar. Like so many District One girl tributes, she goes for the sexy and seductive angle. Her satin blood red dress is long, and reveals much. There is a slit up the side, so her bare leg peeks out, as well as a neckline that plunges, way too low. Many of the males in the crowd lean forward, when she does, showing off her cleavage. I feel disgusted as to her approach.

The boy, Cade, like all other Careers rants about his strengths, and manliness. Jamari plays her angle well, coy and deadly. Virgil goes on about his brawn, and skills in spear throwing. All too soon, my turn comes. The boy from District Three has already been forgotten on my appearance in my gown. I am careful to not trip on the fabric, because I don't want to lift it up. It is far to fitted for me to bend over, and grasp the bottom. I hear many 'oohs and ahhs' as I make my way across the floor in my shimmery gown.

I sit across from Caesar, and he introduces me. "Well folks, this is District Four's beauty, Pearlynn Fisher! Apparently she is more than a beauty, considering her training score of ten! Can you tell us about it?" He leans forward, but I do not tell him. I am not suppose to anyway. I need to use the angle. Here goes nothing,

"Well Caesar, I would love to share what I did in my private session, but, I cannot permit myself to such flamboyancy." He laughs, and I give a small smile, and blush a bit.

"Well, folks it looks like she has brains too. A triple threat! Now, Pearlynn, how do you feel about the Games, and representing your district this year?" I think it through for a few seconds.

"I feel that the Hunger Games are not something that should be laughed about, and thought of as a show, as you fine people do. I don't think that others should behave as if it is a murder spree, in which they may be free to walk around an arena killing off the few stragglers that have managed to survive the Cornucopia either," I say really getting into the answer. "No, I think that the Games are nothing but a test, in which strategy is key. You see, strategy can easily make or break a person. It depends on the strength of the strategy, and the strategic fallouts that may come about in a situation uncalled for. Right now, I could be signing my death warrent, or giving my signature for a parachute. It is all about the strategy, it just depends on if the strategy will pull through right now or not. I would like to go for the latter if I may though," I say.

"As for _me _representing District Four, I am shocked. I really never thought that I would be placed in this position so close to the Doors of Death. I never imagined that I would be reaped, but then again, taking tesserae for six people has it's devastating consequences. In a way, I suppose I knew that the odds were never much in my favor, considering that twenty-nine slips in the reaping bowl bore my name, all printed in a neat scrawl. I just wish that I had known so that I may have strategized more on my plans to make it back home, with my heart beating." Caesar, and the rest of Panem are watching me with gaping mouths, and wonderous stares. Everyone has been hanging on to every word that I say. Every word has registered themselves in their brains, so that they cannot simply checkout now. Great, this is perfect.

I start to blush, when the audience is silent. I seek out Marley, and he gives a thumbs up, through an awe stricken look too. Okay, now for the shy part. "Well," I say to Caesar. "Say something, or I'll think I'm a freak." I say. My face goes redder, as Caesar finally recovers.

"Wow, just wow. This girl just might win this thing," he says grabbing my hand. I blush. My time is almost out. "One more question before you leave Pearlynn," Caesar tells me. He looks me in the eyes, and asks, "Who is waiting back home for you? There must be someone waiting to sweep you off your feet, because I can tell, you must be very popular with the boys back home, with all your charms, including those gigantic brains of yours."

I don't blush this time, but have tears coming on. I instantly reach my hand up to the pin, as if I could feel him. I fight saltwater tears back and answer, in a small voice, "Paul." The buzzer goes off, and I walk back to my seat. The Careers are glaring at me, and every other tribute looks at me with incredulous expressions. Even the golden gaze of Safiya is on me, until Danny and Caesar start the interview.

Danny does a mix for his angle. He talks, in a confident tone, but he is laid back. I can see that he has been working on this angle. The thing I don't understand, is if this was his angle, why did he go into full Career mode during training, instead of being like this? I don't know. His interview ends, and he sits beside me.

I barely pay any attention to the other tributes, but I can tell that their interviews go well, but are quite forgettable. My attention is really caught, when Safiya sits down with Caesar in a very complimentary gold dress. Caesar introduces her, then kicks on the questions.

"So Safiya, how have you been coping with the prospect of being entered into the Games?" Caesar asks. Safiya takes time to answer the question truthfully.

"I hate the idea. In all matters, I would rather be home than be in the Games. I am scared that I will never get to see my family again, or that I will never get to work in the fields with my friends again."

"Well, you got a six in training, how does that feel?" She shrugs.

"Well, it is not the best score, but certainly not the worst. I hope that everyone out there keeps a look out for me in the arena, because, I may just be able to win this thing." As I listen to her talk, I admire her honesty. She is being truthful, unlike many who try to hide their feelings. Yet, she talks in such a sad tone, that I pity her, and her truths. Her buzzer finally goes off, and the rest of the interviews fly by. We all stand to the Anthem, then we are escorted out.

Marley immediately finds me, and tells me that I did a great job. Mags congratulates me, and Danny together, and Jacci raves about Danny. She tells me that I did, 'alright', because she was awed with my speech. That's nice, I confused a lady with the last name Periwinkle.

We are taken back to the fourth floor, and we wander about. I go to my room, and look at myself in the mirror. I would never look this elegant at home, I wonder what everyone back there thinks about it. About everything.

I let my hair go loose, and change into more comfortable clothes. Tomorrow, I will be in the arena, and I have no clue as to what the environment will be like. Maybe a beach, that would be great. Sun, sand, water. Oh, just my element.

As I wander around my room idly, my thoughts fall back onto my family. I just can't stop thinking of them. My brothers, my mother, my father, Nana. I wonder how they are all handling everything. Do the twins have nightmares and cry? Does Nana take out her handkerchief all the time? I know that my parents are probably all suffering on the inside, but I know that they would never stop working or anything. It would do no one any good.

I wonder what my grandfather would think if he was alive. When I was a little girl, I used to call him Papo. I miss calling him that, his stories, his smile. I hope that he protects me in the arena. I truly do.

Jacci is knocking on my door, telling me to join them at the dinner table, but I don't want too. No, I want to stay here, daydreaming about Papo. In the end, I end up going to dinner anyway. My stomache is growling at me.

We eat heartily for the last night in the Capitol. I can barely stuff down the last course of chicken, glazed with orange sauce. I have never even tasted an orange, so the sauce is quite a surprise to me. We would never be able to make this at home. It would be way too expensive.

We all file into the living room, and watch the the recap of the interviews. I wish that I hadn't sounded so smart, now I will definitely be a target. What's done is done though. I can do nothing now.

Lilias bids us goodnight, and tells me that I will see her tomorrow. Eventhough she is wonderful, I wish that it was Marley I saw tomorrow rather than her. She has made me look wonderful, but she has done nothing over that.

Danny and I are bid goodbye by Mags, and Jacci takes us down the hall to our rooms. Jacci gives me a two-second hug, and then turns to Danny without a word of luck towards me. She tells him to do well, and rushes down the hall without looking back. I knew she wouldn't care about me, so then why do I feel badly?

Marley is in the hall too, and he wishes us both luck. He takes my hand in his, then leans in to whisper into my ear. "You better win this Pearly. I'm counting on you." I nod, and give him a hug back to say thank you for all of his help. He walks back down the hall, and looks back, twice. I wish that he could come back though. He has helped me more than anyone.

I am about to go into my room, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look back, and Danny is looking at me. I turn all the way around, and see that his hand is stretched forward. I grab it, and shake it slightly.

"Good luck tomorrow," he tells me. I give him a small smile, and I consider my next move. I do the thing that I always wanted to do, ever since Danny became a Career.

I shake his hand one last time and let go. I open the door to my room, and go in an inch. I turn back and reply in my best Capitol accent, "May the odds be _ever _in your favor." I shut the door behind me, and lock it. I hear his door close soon after. I have just gained an enemy for sure.

…

…

I told the girl that we would be the only ones that knew everything about her strategy, and I intend to keep it that way, but I needed her stylist to make her look the part too.

I approached Lilias after my first meeting with Pearly, and told her that she needed to look sophisticated. The woman went into a bit of a panic, saying that she already made a costume for a different angle. I told her that she needed to change it, and she agreed, and ordered a cup of coffee, so that she could start designing then.

I went right to my room after that, and asked myself if it was such a good idea that I decided to help that girl. I mean, if I really did hate her, which I do, why would I want to help?; but I already know the answer. It's because I hate that Capitol wench more, and she didn't belive in her. I do not intend to side with any idiotic Capitol trolls, so I will do my best to stand my ground.

When I get up, I get ready, and go to the kitchen. I will eat today, because unlike many other mornings, I can handle the smell of the breakfast. I can actually make it slither down my throat. The girl comes, as do the rest of the crew, except the stylists. They are probably still trying to stitch together outfits for tonight. I hope they finish on time.

I spend the first half of the day with the boy, Dan, or something. Mags seems to enjoy having him around, but from what I heard that she-devil say, he has been acting bi-polar lately. To tell the truth, without my deal with the she-devil, I would probably root for the boy, but I don't want to do that now. I need to save the person that impersonated Naida instead.

"You'll definitely win this year," Mags muffles to the boy. He smiles at her, and is about to say something, when I am hit with that urge again.

"The girl could win," I tell Mags. She raises her eyebrows. "She could end up stabbing him in the back at the last second, and win this thing."

"I don't think that Pearlynn would really stab me in the back," the boy says, with a look of, what is that, sadness, remorse, regret? It is definitely not triumph.

"Marley, do you really think that?" Mags looks at me, and I have another urge, just like the day when I had words with Jacci.

"Of course I do! That girl is smart. She could bide her time, make a plan, and then, bam! End up winning."

"Now, Marley, be realistic. The girl is smart, but smarts only go so far, you know that." How could the motherly lady say something like that. She is suppose to care about every tribute as a mentor. 'Not like you have,' my mind retorts. I push the thought away.

"Yes, but didn't you hear? She knows how to find food. She knows how to fight hand-to-hand…" I am interrupted.

"Yes, that's all true, but what is hand-to-hand combat against a spear? A sword? A knife? It is nothing." I am filled with anger at her resistance to see what is right in front of her face. A great, girl tribute.

I start yelling at my fellow mentor again, and I see the boy leave. Good, I am done with him anyway. Mags and I continue to argue, until Mags just puts her hands up and stops. She sits on the couch, and gains her composure, while I reel with anger on the opposite side of the couch. The girl finally arrives, and sits down. Mags leaves, and I know that she thinks that I should just handle the situation. Fine, it'll be that way then.

"Okay, Mags is more for the boy than for you," I say. "She doesn't think that you will go very far. So, me and you are going to be the only ones in on this scheme, okay? It may be better this way anyway, we won't have to explain everything again." she nods in mutual agreement, but I can tell that it doesn't do much to reassure her. "I trust that your angle is ready for tonight right?" I ask.

"Yeah. Either it will work or fail, but for it to work, I need to have him ask the right questions. He needs to ask questions that matter," she says. I merely nod, and fill my glass with a sweet a maroon colored drink. "Last night you said you would stay sober," she says, clearly noticing the liquid. I nod again, still not very happy.

"This is grape-juice Pearly. Don't get caught up in yourself. I keep my promises," I tell her. She blushes, and I roll my eyes a bit.

"My name is Pearlynn," she says. I wave it off. It's not like I'm going to remember that. I've always been bad with names, by the way, who came up with that name?

"I'll call you Pearly. I'm not good with names," I say taking a sip of juice. "So deal with it." She blushes again, and looks away. She has the shy part down alright. "This is going to work, your already off to a great start." I motion to her flushed face. She grows crimson, and nods a bit.

We spend the rest of her session going over her do's and don'ts for the interview tonight. She nails it. Now only if she can do it onstage. Later she is whisked away to get ready, and I go around the crowds of Capitol people. Many are ready to see if any make lasting impressions, so that they can sponsor them. I hope that Pearly is one of them.

I take my seat in the audience, and wait. So much waiting. Now my hypothesis from years past comes back. The Capitol only makes us wait because it is a new type of torture. One that can be placed on everyone, not just the Districts.

The tributes are lead out, and I see that they are all displaying their strategies for all to see. Sexy, coy, allusive, arrogant, hostile. These games really transform these kids into something terrible. A decent looking girl from One now looks like a hooker. How could the Capitol sink so low as that?

I catch sight of a shimmery green thing, and turn full on to see Pearly. Now, as I see the girl on stage, I see that, that lady really did some magic. She looks extremely business like, and at the same time, like a shy beauty. Wonderful, now all she has to do is sell the bit.

She notices me, and says something. I don't catch on, and she repeats again, more to herself than me, "This will work." I really hope for the evil girl's sake it does.

Interviews are passed by. Questions are thrown out, and the answers I hear aren't good. The buzzer sounds, and my tribute is up. When she goes to sit next to Caesar, I start to sweat wondering if she will pull it off. To my awe she does. She actually gets into the question, and I can see her eyebrows furrow as if trying to get her point strictly across. She keeps talking about strategy, and I am at a loss for words on how well she is playing her cards. She finds me in the crowd after she stops talking, and I give her a thumbs up. When Caesar finally recovers with the crowd after her rant, he asks her if she has a suitor. I roll my eyes, because this kind of crap doesn't matter in the Games, so why ask?

I stop my eye-rolling and argument in my head, when her eyes start to water. What the hell? She reaches her hand up, and touches an elegant pin in her hair, that I never noticed before. She whispers, "Paul" into the microphone, and the buzzer goes off. She told me about the Paul guy, but I didn't think that it was that serious by the way she spoke of him. She made it sound like they were just friends, so why is she fighting off tears? She must be hiding something from me, but there is nothing left to talk about. It is done.

She takes her seat, and the boy takes his place. He flashes a wide smile to Caesar, and the entirety of Panem. I can hear ladies around me start to talk about him. Oh please. He is just a boy, you twits; it's not like he's going to marry you.

"Here is Danny Brooke, District Four's boy tribute!" Caesar introduces. The crowd roars, and I want to cover my ears like a child. Don't these people ever get tired of screaming? "So, Danny how has your training for the Games been coming along?"

"Well, I think they have gone fairly well, considering that I got an eight," Danny says, flashing another white smile.

'Yes, how did you do it?" Caesar asks leaning closer, as if the boy would tell him a secret. Danny laughs.

"Oh Caesar, you know the rules. I wish I could tell you, but I would get in trouble if I did." He sits back. "I'll give you a hint, it wasn't spear throwing." He laughs, and so does the rest of the crowd, lightly mocking the District Two boy's rant about his skills with the spear. I let a chuckle out, and listen to the rest of his answers. He just laughs and smiles for the rest of his time really. The Capitol is sure to like him; funny, handsome, and a Career. His time is up, and I pay no more attention to the other worthless kids. They won't stand much of a chance anyway.

The anthem booms out, and we all stand. The tributes are taken off stage, and I rush there to greet them. I congratulate them and we go back up to the fourth floor.

There isn't much else we can do now. We eat dinner, watch the interviews, and say goodbye. This is the last time that I will see the children if they don't survive.

I wish both of them luck, and tell Pearly to win. She nods, and I leave, because I have work to do. I walk down the hall, and I turn back. They are both still there. I take another step and turn back once more. The girl reminds me exactly of Naida now, and I want to go back, but I don't. I need to go and round up some money for that girl I hate.

…

…

Today will be my last day of school for me. Then I will get to stay home, until Pearlynn makes her way back to us. I hope that it is soon.

I barely listen to anything that Mr. Palmer, as well as the other teachers tell me. I can only fantasize about Pearlynn looking like another beauty of the sea for her interview. I wonder what she will be tonight. An eel, shark, dolphin? It doesn't matter, I will get to see her once more.

I get home at once after the school day, and find myself wanting it to be evening already. Why can't they just hurry up and air the interviews. Waiting is like a whole new kind of torture. It is one that can't be confronted; it can only be endured.

I run around town until nightfall. There is nothing else left to do. I go about in the night to the town square. I don't want to be at home right now. It's too nice out to be indoors.

The square fills up, and I am nearly jumping around because it is almost time to see the tributes. I watch intently as the screen finally lights up, and shows the tributes sitting in a straight line on the stage. I only catch sight of a shimmer of green, before I can no longer see my best friend. 'Go back to her. Go back!' I scream in my head. They don't though. They go straight to the first interview; the girl from District One.

Her interview is jam-packed with suggestive notions, and vibes. As I watch, I feel awkward and uncomfortable. Do people actually act like that? Do they actually fill their conversations with sex appeal? I really think that her angle is just to appeal to male sponsors in the Capitol, but then again, who doesn't play their cards to get sponsors, from anyone? I feel somewhat guilty, when she leans forward, and I catch sight of her breasts threatening to fully come out of the little cover of her dress. A few people scoff in disgust, others wolf-whistle immaturely. I turn my face away, not wanting to see anything.

The next interviews go by, and some are stuck in my mind. Others are just sidenotes. I push forward in the crowd to get closer to the screen when I hear the District Three boy's buzzer go off. Pearlynn is finally shown on the screen, walking over to the cushioned chairs. My eyes really pop out of my head.

Her curves are really emphasized in a fitted, shimmery, sea-green gown. At her movement, it bounces light around, and I can hear 'ooohs' from the screen, and from the crowd around me. I take in every inch of her, and find that she looks very sophisticated, unlike her first fun, flowly dress. Her face though, is just so beautiful. Her eyes stick out, and I can't stop admiring them until Caesar finally begins to talk. Even then, I gaze at her face.

"Well folks, this is District Four's beauty, Pearlynn Fisher! Apparently she is more than a beauty, considering her training score of ten! Can you tell us about it?" He leans forward, and Pearlynn blushes a bit.

"Well Caesar, I would love to share what I did in my private session, but, I cannot permit myself to such flamboyancy." He laughs, and she gives a small smile, along with another flush of her cheeks. I laugh out loud, because Pearlynn never talks like that at home. She does at school sometimes, which makes me tease her, but only very rarely.

"Well, folks it looks like she has brains too. A triple threat! Now, Pearlynn, how do you feel about the Games, and representing your district this year?" She scrunches up her nose, considering the question for a second.

"I feel that the Hunger Games are not something that should be laughed about, and thought of as a show, as you fine people do. I don't think that others should behave as if it is a murder spree, in which they may be free to walk around an arena killing off the few stragglers that have managed to survive the Cornucopia either," she says. She is really getting into the answer. "No, I think that the Games are nothing but a test, in which strategy is key. You see, strategy can easily make or break a person. It depends on the strength of the strategy, and the strategic fallouts that may come about in a situation uncalled for. Right now, I could be signing my death warrent, or giving my signature for a parachute. It is all about the strategy, it just depends on if the strategy will pull through right now or not. I would like to go for the latter if I may though." She takes a second, then continues on.

"As for _me _representing District Four, I am shocked. I really never thought that I would be placed in this position so close to the Doors of Death. I never imagined that I would be reaped, but then again, taking tesserae for six people has it's devastating consequences. In a way, I suppose I knew that the odds were never much in my favor, considering that twenty-nine slips in the reaping bowl bore my name, all printed in a neat scrawl. I just wish that I had known so that I may have strategized more on my plans to make it back home, with my heart beating." I have my mouth open now. Sure Pearlynn was really smart, but wow. She is just so detailed, like she had been practicing her little speech.

Well," she says to Caesar. "Say something, or I'll think I'm a freak." Her cheeks grow crimson. I wonder if this is all part of a master plan. Caesar masks his shock, so that he may continue. The timing of her words, has cut off almost all time, and there is only a few seconds left.

"Wow, just wow. This girl just might win this thing," he says grabbing her hand. She blushes more. 'Well of course she's going to win!' I scream in my head. 'She is Pearlynn FIsher!' Caesar stops my mind screaming. "One more question before you leave Pearlynn," He tells her, searching her eyes. He stares intently in them, and his voice drops down an octave, as if he wants to know something secretive. "Who is waiting back home for you? There must be someone waiting to sweep you off your feet, because I can tell, you must be very popular with the boys back home, with all your charms, including those gigantic brains of yours."

I laugh, but stop when I don't see Pearlynn blushing. Instead, her face has morphed so that she looks like she is about to cry. Oh no. Her hand shoots up to her hair, that has been pinned on her head, and I catch sight of it. The pin. She feels the pearl that matches her dress, and a whisper comes out; "Paul." I want her to say my name again, I want her to say anything else, but the buzzer sounds, and Caesar shakes her hand.

"Pearlynn Fisher, District Four!" he shouts. The crowd goes wild on the screen, and others clap in the square. She heads to her seat, and sits down. Her eyes are getting watery, and I feel terrible. I made her feel that way? She really loves me that much? Of course she told me that she did, but I didn't think it was to an extent like tears, because, well I have loved her for years. I don't know how long she has loved me, if I did, I wouldn't be so shocked.

Danny takes his place, and I watch his interview. It goes smoothly, with everyone laughing at the right moment, and everyone smiling on the screen. He is definitely trying to appeal to everyone, and so far, he is succeeding.

The rest of the interviews are barely able to grab my attention for a few moments. I remember none of them very well. It doesn't matter anyway, Pearlynn in coming home, not them.

…

…

"Nana, why does she keep leaning forward?" Sherman asks me as the girl tribute from District One does just so. He looks disgusted, and I can't help but feel the same way. Every year, children have to act like that just to get a fighting chance; it is atrocious.

"I don't know dear," I lie. I don't want these children to be sucked into the Games like that yet. They are too young for it.

"Do you think she is pretty?" Herman asks me. I evaluate the girl first. Light hair, hazel eyes, tall.

"She isn't as pretty as your sister." The boys agree on that, and continue watching. My son, and his wife watch in silence by the children's sides. They have said nothing.

Pearlynn finally takes the stage, in a very pretty sea-green dress. Herman and Sherman gasp at seeing their older sister looking so beautifully. I smile, and I can see her parents do the same. She looks magnificent.

Caesar introduces her, and her interview starts. My smile is wiped off, and my mouth falls open. Since when, did she start talking like that? I have never heard her talk like that, and seeing her do so now, makes me worried. Did she change so much already? Is this just a facade? I glance around, and Herman and Sherman, are whispering trying to figure out what she is saying. Her parents have wide eyes, like me. Apparently they never heard her talk like that either. Her time is ticking away quickly.

"Wow, just wow. This girl just might win this thing," Caesar Flickerman says grabbing her hand. She blushes more."One more question before you leave Pearlynn," He tells her, and I want to know what could be so important, that the answer has to be squeezed into ten seconds. "Who is waiting back home for you? There must be someone waiting to sweep you off your feet, because I can tell, you must be very popular with the boys back home, with all your charms, including those gigantic brains of yours."

I already know the answer, and she confirms it; but she does so in a way that I didn't think she would. She is about to cry, instead of smiling, like she does whenever he's around. Does she care for him that much? Like I did Lyle? I look over at her parents as she sits down, and they look confused. Of course they don't know that they care for each other like that. They think they are just friends. The twins on the other hand, are smiling. They knew what was going on- those sneaky kids.

After the interviews are over, the anthem plays, and the screen goes black. I help tuck in the children, and they fall asleep quickly. I make myself get up, and walk over to my mattress. I usually like sleeping in my chair, but tonight, my back is hurting awfully. I lean down, and get into bed, and fall asleep. Tomorrow will be the start of the Games, and I want to watch every minute of it. I wonder if Pearlynn can sleep right now, knowing that tomorrow is a very dangerous mile-stone.

…

…

I cannot get to sleep. I have paced, counted fish, and even told myself one of Papo's tales. I just can't close my eyes. It doesn't help that another party is playing outside, on the streets below. Can't they see that I need rest for tomorrow?

I try and do everything to make me fall asleep. Now after many failed attempts, I am even contemplating knocking myself out. Surely I could just hit my head hard, and fall into unconsciousness, but then I would be injured before the Games. Not a very wise idea.

I curl up on my bed, and just try to control my dreams. I want to think of my family tonight, so that I will remember where I came from in the arena. I hope they know I love them.

It is very dark in my room, when I finally feel myself slipping away. I hope that I can rest greatly, because tomorrow, could be my last day on Earth.


	13. Let the Games Begin!

**Author's Note: Well hello there! I am sorry that I haven't updated in a while, but I went camping and all this, so yeah. Well I updated now, so YAY! Anyway, today we finally get to the Games. Fun right? Okay, so here's the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the _Hunger Games_!**

* * *

I wake up in sweats, that drench my clothes to the point of being soaked. The nightmares started right after I fell asleep, and never ceased through the whole night. The only thing that was good about them was that they were set in a scenery close to the beaches in District Four. Even then it wasn't enough to call them dreams. The beaches were filled with the blood of children, as well as mine that flowed in an endless scarlet deluge that stained the clear blue water red and purple. Horrible flashes of weapons flashed in and out, as I watched myself bleed, and collapse on an abandoned beach strewn with corpses of people who will never experience a full lifetime.

For an odd reason, I wish that Danny had ran into my room like he did the other night; even if it meant having to deal with the Career side of him too. I want someone to comfort me, and tell me everything will be alright, but I know that that won't happen; especially because of last night. By saying those fateful words, I have just accepted that Danny is an enemy like everyone else. Besides, Jacci, Marley, and Mags have all left so even if someone wanted to comfort me, they wouldn't get the chance.

I get out of bed, and hop in the shower. I stay in there until I hear a knock at my door. Lilias enters, and hands me a set of simple clothes for me to wear. I comb my hair into neat fishtail braids on both sides of my head, fix my token into my hair, and am escorted to the roof of the Training Center. I look at the sky, and see that it is only just, past dawn. I am tired from my night of terror, but Lilias looks confident and fully awake as we walk. We stand there silently until a hovercraft materializes and drops down a ladder. I grab on, and it freezes me in place, as if I was paralyzed. Lilias waves at me, as I am lifted up and into the hovercraft. I am still glued to the ladder when they insert the tracker into my forearm via syringe. I flinch at the pain, and wait until I am released from my muscle paralysis. Lilias is fetched, and I am freed.

And Avox girl leads us to a different room, where many delectable foods are laid out. I feel full, but I haven't eaten anything. Lilias has to force me to eat, and when she does, she makes me eat a lot. The flavors all mix together with my anxiousness, so I don't even know what I am eating.

About an hour later, the windows go black so that I can no longer see the beauty of the sky and it's guests any longer. We are nearing the arena for sure. I stare into the blackness and wonder where I am going. Moments later, I am taken down a tube that leads to the room I will be spending my last few minutes in to prepare for the arena. It is stationed right underneath the arena itself. I wonder what is above me, my doom probably. I look around the small room. After I leave this room, it will be abandoned. I will be the only person to ever use this room for it's purpose. Years after these Games, people will get to tour these rooms like museums and remember me, for a moment.

Lilias holds my outfit for the Games, and I can already tell that wherever they are sending me, it is going to be freezing.

"Are we going to the North Pole or what?" I ask. I don't know much about the North Pole since it was covered briefly in school, but I know that it is suppose to be a place with endless sheets of ice as well as freezing waters. From what I can tell, I made a logical remark.

Lilias laughs. "Maybe. Wherever it is, it's going to be cold." She hands me the thick pants, and I pull them on. I pair of thick wool socks, a long sleeved shirt, a jacket that insolates warmth, a thick beanie, gloves, and boots that keep the warmth of my feet combined with the wool steady.

"Not much fashion sense," Lilias says looking at my outfit with disapproval. I knew that she was always one for more of fashion than function, despite her normal appearance. I wonder if I would be like that if I grew up in the Capitol. Keeping at the top of all the fashion trends. I move around, and find that all of my clothes fit perfectly. Tailored specifically for me.

Another round of food surrounds us, and I nibble on some blueberries, but I feel like they can come up any moment. I down glass after glass of water despite my stomache being full, because I am afraid that I'll dehydrate in the arena, and die that way. Lilias gives me no consoling words or anything, she just sits there and watches as I gulp down water.

The time starts to tick down and I know that I will have to face life and death in a matter of minutes. Lilias gives me a wavering hug as I am called to prepare for launch. I step onto the metal plate, and wait.

"It's been a pleasure making you look amazing," Lilias tells me. I smile, thinking about my parade outfit and my interview gown. They were very magnificent indeed.

"Thank you," I tell her. She beams at me and wipes away tears that are beginning to gather in her emerald eyes. I look up, and see a cylinder descending upon my metal plate. The countdown has finally reached it's end. I smile down to my stylist one last time, then put my game face on, and stand tall.

I finally rise to the top, and find that it is light out, but the breeze is cold. No, not a breeze, but gusts of air. Wind is pummeling me and, goosebumps rise on my arms from the sudden cold compared to my preparation room. My nose goes cold, and is probably progressing to red.

I look around as sixty seconds start to tick by. I cannot see Danny from my position around the Cornucopia laden with weapons and packs of food and water, but I can see Virgil is four plates to the left. Jamari nine. Aventrine is on the right by two, and Cade is out of sight.

After looking at the tributes, I look at the area. We are on a rocky terrain that contains boulders that jut up in sharp peaks like mountains. Snow is nestled in nooks and crannys, but never blankets the ground fully. In the distance mountains are lined like teasers of safety, topped with white. Opposite of the mountain is a drop off, where I can see no more. I'll have to see what's there. It will probably give me the most protection, instead of the mountains that loom far away.

Down to twenty seconds now. I remember what Marley told me. He said to get whatever I could and dash. He said that if I want to go into the blood bath I was welcome to it, but his advice was to take off running and then sneak back later, when the Careers are resting. Many times, the Careers in their arrogance don't make watches, and end up losing their goods to kids who steal from them while they sleep. I really hope that they are like that this year.

From what I can tell I will have to go with his plan. I do not see any animals at the moment, and the only plants I see are bristley shrubs, and the grass. I will have to fight for food.

About fifteen feet away is a backpack, but I can see the District ten boy tribute already eyeing it, so I decide against going for it. From the looks of him, he could take me down, just like he would take down an animal on a farm. Plus, his kukri skills have me terrified.

I take my position to run, as the seconds finally start to end. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. The gong sounds, and I fly. Tributes swarm past me, but I keep on running over the rocky terrain and straight towards the drop off. I bump into another tribute, and look into her eyes for only a moment before a spear plunges into her side, courtesy of Virgil. She falls to the ground, with a glint of silver, and I begin running faster. I turn back remembering that the glint was a knife. I reach for it, and stuff it securely into my belt. I really have to leave… now.

I look back, and I know that no one is following me now, and see that children are being slaughtered mercilessly. I force my head away and keep running for the drop. I need to see what lay over it, before the blood bath is over, so that if it is nothing but a cliff, I can head for the mountains.

I come to the drop, and find that it is really just steep slopes, bearing low-lying plants here and there. I go as fast as I dare on the way down the slopes. About a hundred or so yards over, I can make out other tributes. We are all heading down the slopes. The slope I am on curves around, so I can no longer see anyone. I see a plain of grass at the bottom of the slope, so I head for it. My nose is red, and my ears are probably too. I stuff them back into my hat, and continue my descend. I hope that it will be easier to climb up the steep, mini alps than coming down.

…

…

The dawn arrives, and I get out of bed. I can't sleep anymore, and I can't sit around doing nothing. I need to do something. I slip out the front door and head to the beach.

As I arrive, the sea's mist greets me. The smell of salt, and feel of sand between my bare toes. I plop onto the ground, and watch the waves as they rise and fall in the early morning. Today the sea is stuck in a calm mood, so the waves that edge their way up the sand are old friends instead of enemies. I hope that it stays this way all day long. I don't want it going stormy today.

I bask in the light, and barely notice as people begin to fill the beach. It doesn't matter that the Games start today to them; no all that matters is staying alive. They have no time to watch others fight for survival, they have to fight. Far off, fishermen flood the docks, and set sail for their day on the sea. They will haul fish, and squid, and lobsters up so that the Capitol can take it all away and enjoy it, while they can go home to tesserae rolls and whatever else they can afford. Granted District Four is wealthier than some districts, so everyone including the poor could buy necessities like salt, pepper, and the amount of families that take tesserae were fewer, but survival is survival. Either way people still starve, and people still work for everything they have. Nothing comes free.

The slight chill of day break drifts away and leaves the heat of the morning to follow. It's amazing, how during this time of year, everything warms up so fast, while in the winter, everything is cold all day long. I finally get up, dust myself off, and head home. As I walk, I feel very selfish. The Games will be starting soon and I am off at the beach, thinking about nothing. I should be thinking about Pearlynn and the arena, and all there is to come, but instead I have been sitting in the sand just indulging the warmth of the fiery sun above me. I don't deserve her love.

I reach home, and find that my father has already set off to work. As I said, people cannot stop just because they want to. They have to keep working. My sisters are already off at school. I am allowed to skip for Pearlynn, but my mother didn't want them to miss. Oh dear mother, does it really matter at the moment?

I eat a late breakfast alongside my mother who is busy scrubbing a shirt in a tub of boiling water. My mother is the launder for several families, so most of the time you will find her washing, or hanging, or folding laundry. Even now, she stays busy.

The screen of our TV lights up, and they are blabbering on about how the Games will be starting soon. I wait. When they say soon, they mean soon. They shift cameras to the arena and at exactly ten o'clock, the tributes are raised on their metal plates. I see that the arena stretches far, with mountains on one side, and a drop on the other. The drop is probably a series of hills or cliffs. We'll see. Cameras circle around the ring of tributes, that surround the golden Cornucopia. It must be cold, because everyone is bundled up in thick jackets, along with beanies and gloves. They show close-ups on their faces for about three seconds, then shift to another. I see Pearlynn has her face scrunched up in concentration, as she assesses the ring of death. They cut to another tribute.

The seconds tick down, and everyone takes their final positions. Many for the Cornucopia, others away. I can see Danny on the other side of the horn, and he is mouthing something to the boy from One. He is going to be with Careers. I should have guessed.

One last shot of the camera goes to the Cornucopia and all it's glory. Weapons stacked on top of each other in a large pile. Mounds of food and canteens of water. A large hologram with the seconds left to wait, one.

The gong sounds, and the tributes are sent forward. I catch a glimpse of Pearlynn running away from the blood bath, and then the screen cuts back to the real action. Danny has taken hold of a machete, and is busy hacking away at the boy tribute from Three. Jamari is swiping at oncoming tributes with a scythe. Aventrine is swinging around a mace, while Cade slices with his sword.

My mother gasps as children are murdered one after another. I can do nothing but watch in horror. How could they murder others, like it didn't matter in the end? Everyone of the tributes has a family, friends. How can they take away everything, and not care, not show any restraint?

The screen splits in half, and Pearlynn appears on the screen. She has stumbled right into another girl tribute. I see that the girl is holding a knife, and I scream at the TV.

"Run! Pearlynn run!" Before the girl can take the time to stab her, a spear enters her body. A smaller box under it, shows that they boy Virgil had gone ahead and snuffed out her life. Pearlynn starts to run, and Virgil turns his attention to a boy that has come across his path. Pearlynn looks back, and starts running for the girl. She takes her knife, then continues to run towards the drop off. She is smart in doing so.

The screen is placed back to one, and the rest of the blood bath is shown. A girl with dark skin and golden eyes is running away from the Cornucopia with an arbalest in hand, as well as two backpacks, overflowing with food and canteens. Virgil thrusts his spear at her, but she ducks, and keeps running. She turns around, and aims straight for Virgil. She fires, and an arrow lodges straight into the neck of the Career. She turns back around, and continues to run. She must have been very sneaky to get away with so much.

The other Careers run over to their fallen ally, and try to keep him alive, but he is bleeding too much. They can do nothing but take his supplies now. The initial blood bath is over, so the cannons start to fire. Thirteen. Twelve loners, and one Career. I'm so glad that one of them wasn't my best friend. I would have died right here.

The program doesn't end, but it isn't very interesting anyway. The only thing I take account of is Pearlynn running down the slopes, and the girl that took out the Career in three seconds farther off, but doing much the same. Many of the other survivers decide to head for the mountains, instead of the drop like Pearlynn and the golden eyed girl. I watch, and am shocked to find that the mountains seem to get closer to the tributes trying to reach them. Almost like they are moving; and that is what they are doing. Moving towards them. Maybe that is why they are moving towards the mountains, because they are getting closer; but why? Will it really give any more shelter? Then I see it, the snow. So much snow, that can be used to fill up canteens after being melted. Snow that can be used to treat wounds. Maybe it is smart to go towards the mountain, but then again, there is nothing to make fire, to melt the snow and stay warm. They would have to search for wood, and from the looks of it, the alps don't hold any trees.

The screen splits into eight separate boxes, each filled with at least one tribute. The biggest box is shared by the Careers, but they are just rummaging through their supplies as hovercrafts appear to take away the bodies. I hear their conversation.

"No water in these canteens. They want us to search for water. They want us to all be led to one spot." I take in what the Career girl said. Led to one spot for another blood bath? Isn't one enough? I mean, it is only day one!

"I bet it's over that edge, over there," Danny says. The others nod in agreement. If they go now, they can still catch Pearlynn who is hastily trying to put as much distance between her and the Careers as possible.

"Let's have a search over these rocks first, then we can check out the drop off." I am relieved when the others agree to wait until later to make their way down. She has a bit of time.

I watch Pearlynn's box. Pearlynn stops to catch her breath, and I see that her nose has gone red, as well as her ears that peak out from her hat. As if she could sense me looking at them, she pulls her hat down lower to cover her ears. She continues her journey down, and I just look at her.

"You've done great today," I say to her. I know that she can't hear me, but that won't stop me. She has done great and no matter what, I want her to know that. She is magnificent, and she is coming home just because of that. "I love you."

…

…

Rounding up money for my tribute isn't easy. I have to get a feel of everyone's thoughts on who would surive in the bloodbath before anything was set in stone. Even then, they could always choose to withdraw from their sponsorship. No wonder I never try.

I just left Pearly, and I am going straight to a party. I know it sounds terrible, but I really just wanted to see who was impressed with her performance. I mean if someone is impressed than I can almost count on their sponsorship. And the only way to check is to go to the parties and mingle. Ew, mingle.

"Where are you going?" Jacci asks me, as I stepped in the elevator. She is looking at me with disapproval from her spot on the couch.

"To a party wench. What about it?" She raises her eyebrows.

"A party. Don't you think you should be attending to that girl of yours?" I want to smack this lady so hard…

"I would shut up if I were you, unless you were going to do it," I say annoyance obvious. She shuts her mouth, and leans back. The elevator doors close, and I go down. As I do so, I curse her out with every word that I know of. It feels good.

The party is held in a private room right under the first floor. It is already jam-packed with people from the Capitol as well as the other mentors. I wiggle my way in here and curse out the girl too. She is the one making me go to Capitol parties to get money. I have no say in the action. It's all her fault.

I head over to the bar, where people are giggling and taking shots and whatnot. The bartender asks what I want, and I tell him that I want some grape juice. That would be great. He looks at me funny, and makes an Avox fetch it for him since it's not behind the counter. Freaking lazy jacka…

"Marley! Oh I haven't seen you in so long," squeals a woman with ridiculously long eyelashes. Are they, orange? "What are you doing here?"

I turn to the woman, and recognize her as Placia Harthrottle; the woman that wanted to sponsor Naida. She was going to give her mounds of money so that she could have water, since her and her partner were dehydrated and the only source of water was the lake near the Cornucopia. That never happened though. On their trip to search for other water sources, they were killed.

"Nothing Placia, except getting drunk, and laughing at that lady's tutu. How about you?" I ask. She laughs shrilly, and gives me a cheesy smile. I threw in that tutu bit, because the last time we spoke, she was ranting on about how tutus were outdated in the fashion world.

"Well, I was actually going to congratulate you on your girl tribute; Pearl Fishe…"

"Her name is Pearlynn," I say abruptly. Only I can call her something else. She is my devil. "Pearlynn Fisher."

"Oh, what a beautiful name. Pearlynn, I wonder who came up with that." She thinks a moment, then shakes her head slightly. "No, no, no. I wanted to congratulate you on getting such a clever tribute. I must say that I was awed at her little speech, and I was wondering what you make of her."

What do I make of her? I hate her. "Well, she's beautiful, smart, got a ten for her training score... I think that she has a great chance of winning this year. I just hope that other people see her for what she's worth and decide to help her out in the Games," I tell her. She nods her head.

"Well, my husband and I would gladly sponsor her if she survives the bloodbath. She seems very… resourceful. Not to mention, she seems very passionate about that boy she spoke of," the lady says. Of course that would play a role in a Capitol housewives' decision; they want to know everything about one's romances so that they too can have some.

"Yeah. True love I believe. Probably end up getting married after this." I try to play this card for all it's worth. Surely this Capitol woman, as well as countless others would pledge allegiance to a girl who is in love with her best friend. They want to see a happy ending.

"Oh, if that were to happen, I would love to pay for the wedding myself!" This lady is ridiculous, but she was willing to sponsor Naida, and now she's willing to do it now for the she-devil. Deal with it Marley, just deal with it. "Marley how have you been holding up without that girl of your's you lost?" For god sakes, can't she remember a name?

"Naida? Well it's been hard, but I get through it. Why?"

"Well, I just noticed that your girl this year looks similar to her. I think it really is the eyes." I nod, and take my grape juice from the Avox who finally returned with it in hand. I take a long swig, not even bothering to get a glass. Placia looks at me with amusement.

"Thirsty for some wine?" she asks. The bottle my juice is in resembles that of what she said. I play the card, no matter how low it is.

"Like I said, I am here getting drunk, and laughing at that lady's tutu." I guffaw to convince her that I am no longer sober. She laughs along with me, then starts to rant about fashion again, our conversation about Pearly over. Man, I hate this. Now I wish that I really was drinking wine.

…

…

**The Control Room **

The arena is set up, and it looks wonderful. I wonder who is going to die today? Hmm… My assistant starts the countdown as the tributes are lifted on metal plates above the arena. From the looks of it, it isn't cold enough in there for them. They won't even shiver.

"Turn the wind up!" I yell at a technical worker from across the room. She looks up, and starts tapping on her holographic keyboard. Gusts of wind ripple in, and I see a few of the tributes flinch. Yes, it will be cold out there.

We all wait patiently as the time starts fading away, and the gong finally sounds. The blood bath is in full swing, and I am enjoying it wholeheartedly. Someone is being hacked to bits, another beheaded. Ooh, some child was struck in the head with a swinging mace. Beautiful.

I laugh at the cowards running away from the Cornucopia. Surely it can't be that frightening can it? Only three of the running tributes make the decision to go down the slopes. The others decide to run for the mountains, and their water sources, snow. This means that they know that all the canteens are empty. Only one has water in it, and it's being stolen right now.

The girl from Eleven is running away from the Cornucopia with two backpacks, one with the water, and an arbalest we set in there for fun. Looks like the boy from Two spots her. He throws his spear, but she ducks, and continues to run towards the slopes. She turns, and fires a round right in the boys throat, then disappears over the edge.

Oh pity, that boy was awfully good too. I really thought that he would be one of the last standing. Oh well. The blood bath is over, and we send out the cannons. Thirteen.

I see that children are still running towards the mountains. If they don't reach it soon, then they will never find each other, so there will be no blood. I want blood.

"Move the mountains!" I command. I get a few looks of doubt, but I pay them no heed. "Move them I said!" With some reluctance, the technical workers start to program the mountains to move forward. Yes, there will be blood.

I Henlis Starke will relish the death of twenty three children.

…

…

I watch as Pearly is face-to-face with the girl from Eight. She has a knife in hand, and is going to stab her. I knew that this wouldn't work. I knew she would die. Pearly is going to hell where she should have been all along.

She is saved by a Career who spears the girl before she can even lift her knife. Pearly starts to run again, but stops, turns around, and retrives the weapon that could have taken her life. She should have taken the spear too, but I can see that she doesn't have the time. She disappears over the drop.

The blood bath continues until there are only the Careers and a single girl left on the plain. The girl is stuffing things in her bag, while the Careers check to make sure their victims are dead. They don't even notice as she slips out of the Cornucopia. The boy that had the spear turns and sees the girl, and tries to impale her. She ducks and runs towards the edge. She turns around, and sends a single arrow from her arbalest into his neck. She disappears before he even falls to the ground.

"Well I'll damned. She's a sneaky one," I say. The other mentors nod, and Chaff from eleven smiles. He is one of the newer winners, so he must be ecstatic that his tribute is doing so well.

The cannons begin to fire signalling how many deaths have come about so far. Thirteen children lay dead on the ground around the Cornucopia. I can barely stomache the sight of seeing all of the corpses being taken away by the clean hovercrafts. One hovercraft must dip down several times to retrieve all of the pieces of the boy that was hacked apart. I glance at the other mentors, and see that some of their screens have already gone black. Both of their tributes are already dead. Too bad, it's the same people every year too. Beetee from District Three is always the first one to have a dark screen. Poor guy.

The screen splits into seven, so that all of the tributes are in view. Everyone is running except for the Careers who are rummaging through their pile of goods. One of them opens a canteen, but when they bring it to their lips, there is no water.

"No water in these canteens," says a girl with a coy smile on her face. "They want us to search for water. They want us to all be led to one spot." Already Gamemakers? I mean they just had a blood bath!

"I bet it's over that edge, over there," Danny says. The others nod in agreement.

"Let's have a search over these rocks first, then we can check out the drop off," the girl that looked like a hooker at her interview says. They all nod in assent. At least Pearly will have some time to get down and find shelter; but tomorrow they will come for her and all the others.

"Marley you should rest," Mags mumbles next to me. I was at that party all night, so I barely got any sleep. I nod, and head to my room. If anything happens she can always call me back. She wouldn't be so cruel as to let Pearly die without my knowing just because she favors the boy more. I plop into bed, and fall asleep. I hope that Naida is proud of me.


	14. Nectar Sweet and Pine

**Author's Note: Yes, I know I am horrible at updating, don't rub it in. I am sorry, and I will continue to apologize for my terrible updating skills so, Sorry! So here is the chapter…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games**

* * *

The weather seems to get hotter as I descend. I want to shed my jacket or my hat, but I am worried that the temperature rising is just part of my imagination, since I can still see snow covering the ground and rocks. I am sweating hard.

When I finally reach the bottom of the slopes, the sky has darkened considerably. I want to stop, but I have succeeded in nothing but coming down. If I want to sneak back up to the Career's camp for food or water, I could be caught, plus I am tired of those steep hills. I don't want to throw away all of my progress and start to climb again.

I walk across the plain, covered in snow, slowly searching for any means of life other than the grass and the wildflowers that sprout here and there close to the ground, where the snow is absent. I look behind me, but I do not see any of the other tributes that came running down here like me.

As I survey the area, I notice that trees are beginning to sprout here and there in the distance making thin veils that eventually grow into a forest, I walk on.

As I make my way steadily towards the trees, I begin to worry. I am hungry and thirsty, but all I have is a knife. I am glad that I didn't go for that backpack though, because the District Ten kid grabbed hold of it so fast that I know I wouldn't have made it.

My stomache rumbles, and I remember that day that I stuck that fish in my coat pocket. I don't know what happened to it, but it disappeared that night, after I came back from swimming. I wonder if it just fell out or if someone ate it. I guess it wouldn't make much of a difference. It was just a little shellfish.

I can feel as I walk that the ground is slightly sloped. It's like everything is going down. How high up am I? I stop to look around. The slopes lay behind me, and over them loom the mountains that seem to look, bigger. Is that just because I am farther away from them now? No, they are getting bigger. Slowly but surely, I can see them become larger than before. What is going on?

I make my way to the trees faster now, wanting to reach them as quickly as possible. I don't have much, so I will have to go after something that will preserve my life for a while, water. I reach them, and start to make my way through them like a gazelle.

The smell of the trees is so clean and fresh, that I find myself closing my eyes, and inhaling on my way through the trees. Every now and then I will hear a chirp, but I cannot even see any other forms of life.

The sunlight that squeezes in between the cracks of the treetops is slowly fading, and I know that I don't have much time before night settles in. The temperature is dropping drastically, I shiver in my coat. I am glad that I didn't shed my layers earlier, that would have been a disaster.

Thoughts run through my head, and I want to tune them out, but they keep coming back no matter how hard I try not to think of them. Why are the mountains moving? Is someone following me? Who is dead? Is there a river or something nearby? But my biggest question is, why did the other tributes run _towards _the mountains topped with powdery snow? Surely if it is freezing where I am, it must be worse where they are. Going towards the snow in this environment will only give them hypothermia, so why did they make the decision to avoid the slopes? I suspect that the answer isn't good.

My surroundings are slowly beginning to blend together. The darkness of the trees is becoming the only thing I can see. I need to stop. I walk around the area I am in, and find a pine tree that gives modest protection. I have nothing, so I can only look around for sticks that are dry enough for me to build a fire. I find only a few short ones, but it's better than nothing. I set to work on rubbing them together all the while shivering.

Making a fire may not be the wisest idea, but I cannot help myself. I am freezing despite my warm clothes, and the thought of enduring the cold all night seems impossible at the moment. I rub the sticks, and a spark finally presents itself. I set the sticks on the pile of wood that I scavenged, and I wave my arm around, trying to coax the flame to grow bigger.

I rub some feeling into my hands as the fire flares, and shudder at the delight. Warmth. I go to wipe my runny nose, and find that it is like an icecube. My ears are warm and cozy in my hat, but my nose has been suffering all day. I pull my jacket up, and cover my nose as much as I can, to try and defrost it.

As the fire grows bigger, I pull out my knife and inspect it closely. It looks more like a dagger. I thrust it around a bit, and feel that it is comfortable in my hand. It woudn't be much help if I used it as a throwing knife, it is more for stabbing.

With a bit of difficulty, I pick at some of the bark on the tree I am leaning against. A bit falls off, and I stick a piece into my mouth. You can eat pine right? I spit it out, at the exposure of the bark, but my stomach roars back. I leave the piece of pine on the ground, and pick at the tree. A piece of the inner bark. I stick it into my mouth, and it's earthiness spreads across my tongue. I continue to chew until I have gotten the bark to slide down my throat. Then another piece, and another.

I look up into the sky, as the anthem begins to blare out of speakers I cannot see. I gasp in shock when I see that the first face I see is Virgil's. Arrogant and conceited. It makes me wonder, who killed him, how? The faces swim by, and I don't pay much attention to them all. I am lost in thoughts. The anthem finally ends, and the sky goes back to a starry backdrop of false hopes.

I spend the next few hours of the night just warming up, and picking at the bark of the tree. My eyelids begin to droop, and I know that I will fall asleep soon. I get up, and stomp out the flames, until all that remains are ashes. I don't want to start a wildfire tonight. I snuggle up to the tree, and soon the night envelopes me in a fitful sleep.

I don't know how long I have slept, but I hear a twig snap. I bolt up, and pull put my dagger like knife. I strain my eyes into the blue light of the morning, and see nothing out of the usual, but I don't let my guard down. I peer around until I am fully convinced that no one is there. I pick at some more bark, then spread the ashes of my fire around into random places, so that no one will pick up my trail.

My journey to find water is tiresome, but when I finally find it, there is nothing to hold me back. I run to the pond, and crouch in the mud, and pull off my gloves. I cup my hands into the freezing pond, and just begin slurping it up. I have nothing to purify it or anything, so I just drink as much as I can when I see that the water doesn't harm me after my first drink.

The water is freezing cold, but I am thankful for it rather than nothing. When I finally finish drinking, I peer into the bottom of the pond. I don't see any fish or anything, but when I look around and really analyze the pond, I spot water lilies floating around in shades of pink and purple. I pluck one out of the water, and admire it's beauty. My stomache rumbles, and I realize what I am holding in my hand. A sweet treat.

I get down to the nectar of the plant, and flit my tongue out to taste it. Pure sweetness. I continue to enjoy the sweetness of the flower, until all that remains are the lightly wilted petals.

The sun is high in the sky by now, and I know I must keep moving on, and doing something. I have to get back to the Career's camp. Climbing back up the slopes to the camp isn't the best plan, but it's all I have. I cannot just sit back and wait to get attacked. I have to at least try and get away with some supplies.

I drink as much water as I can before I leave. I stuff two flowers into my pockets to keep my hunger out of the picture, and start to make my way to the slopes. The trees clear up faster than they appeared last night, and I find myself under a yellow-ish sun and facing jagged cliffs of rock. The slopes look so much different from yesterday. Instead of the steep slopes, there are jagged boulders jutting out with the eminence of death itself.

How had I managed to even think about coming down yesterday? I don't know, but all I can do is put on a brave face and bare it. The ground begins to slope upwards, and I begin my ascend with gritted teeth.

...

...

"She has to look for water now," I explained to my youngest sister Oceana who was having difficulty determining what Pearlynn was doing as she ran through the trees like she knew everything about them. "Without it, she will die of thirst."

"Oh," was the only reply that I receive. I look over, and see that Oceana is in deep thought, with her nose scrunched up. I laugh at her face, because she really is to little to understand the extent of things, and when she tries, it becomes funny.

I eat dinner with my family, and gag once I see what Pearlynn is eating to keep her hunger in check. Pine bark. I feel guilty as I take a bite into the smoked fish that takes up most of the room on my plate. I feel so guilty that I don't even finish my fish shaped roll made from the tesserae grain. I let my sisters split it, as I glare at the roll that made Pearlynn enter the Hunger Games.

After the table is cleared and the dishes are sparkling clean, my family files into the living room that serves as my room. The T.V is split in all different directions, but I find the box filled with the beauty from the beach. She is huddled next to a tree, in front of a small fire, eating small pieces of the inner bark of a pine tree. I sigh. How cold it must be there. For about the millionth time today, she reaches up, and wipes her nose against her sleeve. It is bright red, and runny.

The anthem begins to boom, and the screen is whole again. It shows all of the people who died today. The first face is one of the Career's. Serves them right for being bloodthirsty teens with the insight to kill brutally. The rest of the faces blur at the edges as I do not remember them much. Each face blends in with another, until I must look away from the T.V. set.

I look back up at the end of the Anthem. The seal finally burns it's image into the screen, and goes black. Nothing more but darkness.

I help my parents tuck in my three giggly sisters, then ask to go and visit the Fishers. I am granted their permission, and I rush out the door wanting to speak to one of the Fisher's personally. Not the grandmother, nor the children, not even the mother, but the father. Hilligan Fisher is the man I need to see.

I run down the streets as the lights begin to dim on the District.

...

...

"What I don't understand is why she didn't train in the District!" I yell at Mags. Trying to keep this girl alive has been futile, and I am tempted to just let her die. It would be so much easier to just sit back, relax, and watch as dehydration slowly took it's toll, or as a fellow tribute comes to slit her throat during the middle of the night. I wouldn't have to deal with the fact that the damn girl only knows how to do certain things like tying knots and so and so instead of how to wield a weapon. Watching her die is what I want to do, but the urge to insult that walking talking, thing named Jacci is too great. I continue to ask the question that has been eating at me since the Games began.

Ever since the beginning of the Hunger Games tradition, District Four has held an advantage. It is a wealthier District, therefore can afford more things. Now the whole district contains one training center that most of the children of the district, rich or poor train in the help build skills for the Hunger Games. I know that that is how I survived my Games. I trained rigorously, when I didn't see Naida, and made sure that I was at my peak of physical strength.

I remember looking through the District training center's windows and watching as some carefree people neglected training. Laughing and talking, then holding no chance of survival if ever they were reaped. That was how I met Naida, seeing her walking around with no worries, and now I can just imagine the girl doing exactly the same.

"Shit. I need more information on her," I say pacing back and forth as Mags keeps her eyes on the screen. She barely looks up, but I can see her mouth the words, "Ask the escort." I laugh in a state of insanity and mental frustration. I shake my head. "I'm not that desperate." I say. " I don't need her help."

"Who's help?" Jacci asks stepping into the room. He blue hair is no longer short and frizzy, but sleek and long. An enhancement in her appearance, but still not enough to make her look normal. "Well, I need an answer," she says when Mags and I attempt to ignore her.

"Yours," Mags finally says to her, and I strangle the old lady in my mind. What was that for? Jacci has a smug smile on her face, and crosses her arms expectantly.

"Well, what do you _need_," she asks me. I give her a disgusted face.

"I don't need anything from you. Now go dye your skin yellow or something," I tell her as I sit down. I know that I promised that I wouldn't drink, but I can't help myself now. I grab a bottle of whiskey, and a glass. I pour myself some of the drink, and gulp it down.

"Just tell me what you need, and I promise that I won't be smug about it," she says. I really want to just turn down the offer, but I need information, and this is the lady that knows almost everything.

"Okay, fine. What do you know about the girl?" I ask deeply hating this scenario. Jacci tuts, and begins to walk away, with her high heels clicking against the wood.

"My apologies Marley, but I know nothing of her. Figure it out yourself," she calls out behind her shoulder. I give a death glare to the back of her head. I feel pure hatred, and rage begin to pump within me like the blood in my veins. I cannot take holding all of the frustration I have been dealing with, in anymore.

"You son of a bitch! You want to complain all about her, yet you know nothing about her?" I scream at her. I feel the presence of Mag's eyes on my back, but I don't care. I got that blue low-life piece of Capitol trash to stop dead in her tracks. I have her attention.

"Marley," Mags begins, but Jacci butts in.

"Who are you calling a son of a bitch? Your just an old man who's drunk off of his ass!" she fires back. For a Capitol woman she doesn't seem scared of sending out a few choice words of her own. I smile at her grotesque figure, and start to add checkpoints to my side of the chalkboard.

"You mother fucking Capitol wench! You don't even care about either of the kids for what they're worth. You probably only prefer the boy because he has a nice ass! As for the girl, I bet you do know things about her-"

"I do not!"

"Bull!" I counter. When it comes to arguments, this lady has to realize that I am the top dog. I will always win. Her face is contorted in anger, and I am about to make it worse, when the old lady steps between us.

"Enough," she says. I try to say something, but she doesn't have it. "Enough!" she yells. "You are acting like children. There is no time for this, so stop." Never in my whole existence had I ever heard Mags be so strict. I say nothing. Jacci doesn't stay for the lecture that the old lady is sure to begin. Instead she humphs and whirls around to go back to her quarters. I wait for the lecture to come as Jacci stomps away, but it doesn't.

"Marley go to bed," she says, and pats my shoulder. She goes to make her way to her spot in front of the screen again. I nod once, not able to say anything to my mother figure. I glare at form retreating into her room as I walk to mine.

I hate her so much, that I am filled with the same rage and rebel vibe that I had when I first got my self in this situation. Man will I show her…

…

…

I reach the Fisher's home, and the light is dim. I knock on the door, and one of the twins opens it for me.

"Hey," I smile down to him. "Is your dad home?" The boy nods, and leads me to the living room.

"Dad!" he shouts casually to his father who is sitting on the floor. "Someone to see you!" I wave at the father, then the rest of the family. By now, the Grandmother has fallen asleep in her chair, and one of the twins is lying on a mattress fighting to stay awake. The mother waves kindly, but never rises from her seat. Hilligan Fisher rises, and comes to meet me.

"What can I do you for son?" he asks.

"May I please speak to you outside?" I ask him, gesturing towards the door. He nods, and I lead him outside to the veranda. We stand there in silence for a moment, and wonder if I should back out now, but I know it's too late for that. May the lord see this through...

"Mr. Fisher, I need your blessing," I tell him. He doesn't seem to understand, and looks at me with confusion.

"Come again?"

I take a deep breath. "Mr. Fisher, I want to marry your daughter."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed! I know it is VERY short, but I have been dealing with so much lately, it's all I could handle. Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment below! LOVE YA! ^.^**


	15. Paul

**Author's Note: So, freaking sorry for the what, month long delay? My computer has been acting up, as well as the fact that I started school again. I would have had this chapter out sooner, but somehow my stuff was deleted, and ugh. Ya, I'm terrible, atrocious, so let's get on with the writing shall we? Sorry if the pay off for the cliffhanger is a bit weak, but what can I say, I'm human, still haven't mastered literature yet.**

**And I apologize even further that this chapter is so short since it is only in Paul's POV. I just couldn't take not updating at least a little bit. I'm so sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, you should know that already.**

* * *

The whole ordeal would have been easier to take if Mr. Fisher actually responded to my plea. Sure it was a lot to take in, but walking away wouldn't be my first choice as to my reaction if the situation was flipped. I would at least be angry, feel something, instead of how the man looked now; like I was a burden and wasting his time.

"We'll talk about this later. Go home Paul," he says shaking his head. He looks tired now, as if he bears the world's weight on his broad shoulders.

"Sir, please let me expla-" I try to say, but he's already making his way back into the little house provided by the district.

"I said go home. We will discuss this in the morning." He slams the door closed with more force than necessary, and I just stand on the porch. I come here to give a big speech, and all I receive is a door slammed in my face. I guess not everything in life is like a fairytale. What a weak pay off that was.

I start to head home and resolve to come back in the morning, just like he told me too. Maybe then, I can get him to listen. I absentmindedly kick pebbles in my path as I trudge down the lane. The cold night surrounds me with a strange and ominous presence. It's almost as if I am being watched. Analyzed… I look about searching for anyone or anything, but I see and hear nothing. Only the bitter silence, laced with the blowing of a soft breeze, and the lapping of the ocean onto the coarse sand somewhere in the district.

The lights are already blown out when I arrive at home. As quietly as possible, I slip through the screen door. I shut it and head straight to bed not caring what time it is, or bothering to check in. I sleep in the living room, it won't take that long for them to find out that I'm back from my little trip.

Usually I can fall asleep quite quickly, but tonight is one of those days that I can't shut my eyes to save my life. No matter how tired I am, my heavy eyelids refuse to close over my eyes. I toss and turn in fits trying to get comfortable, but each way I turn submits a new protest from my mind, or my body.

Halfway through the night with still no rest, I go out to the porch. The wind is gently soothing my warm skin, and creating a softer blanket than my own. I just lean on the rail and close my eyes, somewhat more relaxed than inside. I can already tell that I will most likely fall asleep out here. It's not like it's the first time, but when I do, I get awfully stiff.

_Think about how she feels, she has to sleep in a mysterious arena, with twenty three people all trying to kill each other. She definitely gets stiff there and complains about it._

I plant my forehead on the wooden railing, and squeeze my eyes tightly. Why must things come to this. How was life before this absence of morality came to pass? Could it have really been worse than it is now?

I lift my head, then let it drop, over and over again. Here's me sounding psycho, but the pain feels good. It lets me know that in the midst of everything there is in this world, I am still human, and so are all of these people that act like machines, as well as those forced into the Hunger Games, and are waiting to die.

How long this continues, I have no clue. I am aware that when I finally start to doze off, my father comes out to the porch. Through my grogginess, I understand that he wants me to come inside and lay down. I do just that, and go into a sleep full of seeing myself, bang my head on the railing outside of my house.

…

…

When I do wake up, the sun blinds me. The windows are open, and I can feel someone's presence near me. A yawn unexpectedly comes out, and I hear a creak behind me.

"Goodmorning," my mother greets carrying a basket full of neat pressed shirts. "Sleep well?" I rub my eyes, and my mind goes into a frenzy.

"What time is it?" I look to the T.V. , screen, which is on, but mute. I don't see anyone I'm looking for, so I glance back at my mother.

"About ten thirty. You slept in very late, but your father said to leave you be," she replies not even shifting her eyes from a thin blue cotton shirt, with a bright white-pink stain, from someone bleaching it incorrectly.

"The Games are on though, you should have woken me up." She shrugs.

"Nothing interesting happening at the moment." I give her a look, and she chuckles, "Don't worry, she's just resting right now." I don't have to question, because the screen cuts in half, one camera on her, and the other on Danny.

I grab the remote, and turn up the volume so that I can hear.

"You like her don't you?" someone asks Danny. He merely shrugs.

"She's okay."

I glance at Pearlynn, eating the nectar of a water lilly in the opposite box on the screen. She seems rested and relaxed for the moment. Are they talking about her?

"Bull," comes a voice from Danny's screen. Danny chuckles lightly. "I can see it in your face, you do."

"Well," Danny says, wiping off his machete, wich is caked with dirt and mud. "sure I do, but that's not gonna keep me from taking her out if I have too."

The Careers start to jeer at him, and make "ooh"ing sounds at Danny. He whips his machete back and forth, with a small grin on his face.

"Stop it guys," he says playfully. "your making me blush."

I slam down the remote in protest of what I am watching, though nothing seems wrong, per say. Danny just makes me angry. Every time I see his face on the screen, I just feel my blood start to boil, and I feel like I am about to explode. If I were in the arena, he would be the first blood on my hands.


End file.
